How bad would I have to be?
by CalmMango
Summary: An entire Multi-AU story going off song lyric prompts. It's got bubbline, awesome fights, bubbline, even some heartfelt sappy moments, bubbline, and even some badass PB moments; who doesn't like that! (Did I mention bubbline?) Has most main characters in it. Rated M for... you'll find out. Check it out, yeah?
1. The Beginning

**EVEN IF YOU DON'T READ AUTHOR'S NOTES PLEASE READ THIS:**

**Okay, so this fic is a compilation of many AU's, all due to the song Killer by the Plain White T's. Don't worry, you don't need to wonder about not understanding the story if you can't get to it online; The lyrics are basically little bite sized- prompts. However, you should listen to the song if you wanna get some more reasoning out of the fic. Actually, if you do listen to it (while it isn't mandatory for anything) it's almost like a spoiler to which AU will be happening next. Kinda cool huh? :D**

**There will be 8 different AU's here, each one researched and actually very thought out( took me almost three months to finsh this)Each one will vary from three to only one parts, depending on how I feel. This one right down below is the base AU, which is in regular, current time, in the human world that I seem t use ni most of my work. Each AU will branch off from here. So, I know this is taking alot in; It'll make WAYYY more sense when you start to read it. Now, just relax and go with the flow. Okay? Okay.**

**Enjoy mah peeps.**

**~CalmMango**

* * *

They lie on the ground, looking up at the overgoing sky. Bonnibel nudges her with her elbow, interrupting her song.

"What?" Marceline says, glancing down at her relaxed girlfriend with a smile. She hasn't seemed like this in awhile. Her guitar now rests on the grass next to her.

An escape. This is one of those days we're the world is annoying for the two…at the same time. An escape is what's agreed on as they had driven out the city far enough to reach a secluded countryside, spread out and littered with hills. Their place to relax, enjoy each other company. The sparks of such odd discussions were normal, in fact, part of the mood; it being that anything could be said.

They could and can be themselves.

Bonnibel moves up on her elbows and hums before replying slowly. "I've always wondered why you like me. I don't see what you see in me..or whatever that is."

"Are you fishing for a compliment? 'Cause I'll gladly give you some."

She waves her hand in dismissal. "No, no. I just want to know why you like me when I don't even like myself. Why?"

The wind whistles by, and Marceline lets it continue as another interruption. She takes the time to think of words carefully.

"I… I love you because of who you are." Her _love_ promptly makes an extremely unattractive sound in exasperation, similar to a constipated fish gasping in the open air. "What, you disagree or something?"

"No, I mean, what if I.. if I was different. Not who I am now. The opposite of what I am now."

Marceline leans back on her elbows. "You mean bad? Cause you're good now."

Bonnibel rolls onto her stomach and inches nearer, leaning over her view slightly. "Yes. What if I was bad?"

Marceline scoffs. "That.. to be honest sounds pretty hot." She waits for the oncoming smack but doesn't receive it; surprisingly. Bonnibel awaits the rest of her response eagerly, so she continues. "But you couldn't just be kinda bad. You'd have to be really bad. Like me...or what I used to be before I met you and got all soft." Her girlfriend smiles at that, making her heart thump once or twice harder as usual.

"You're still bad Marceline, just not as reckless. But I can't deny that, that was the main characteristic that drew me to you in the first place. Bad is... alluring."

Marceline scoffs. "Well same here, former goody-two shoes. I think we both changed into a neutral state when we got together, don't-cha think? Like balanced each other out."

She agrees."But back to the question, Marce."

"Hm. Well you'd have to be better, no, worse than bad-ass. Really bad."

Another pause, longer than before and Marceline doesn't know whether she's mad or not. The wind decides to blow into her face for a moment, messing up her hair. When it dies down once more, she moves. The raven haired girl raises her brows as Bonnibel climbs upon her lap in a straddle, grips her shirt collar and leans down for a soft kiss.

Her lips taste like an old memory of something just as sweet, like nostalgic candy. It lasts a second, and before she can react at all, it's over. Like a ghost had come and gone.

She craves more, and a slight whine escapes her. Blue eyes are uncharacteristically heady and serious. The other girl is seemingly on the verge of doing or saying something on a dare, reckless. Put frankly in Marceline's eyes and thoughts in her mind, she looks sexy as hell and yet scary at the same time. It excites her to play with such an unpredictable emotion, such an unpredictable girl; exactly like playing with fire itself. The calming mood changes in the blink of an eye.

The girl swallows as words fail her completely. Marceline bites her lip as Bonnibel says lowly,

"How bad… would I have to be?"

* * *

**AHH TITLE DROP BITCHEZ! -3-**

**R & R to meh the love. Trust me, I love each and every one.**


	2. If I was a Pirate

**_Bonnibel_**

_If I was a pirate sailing the seas  
Would you come pillage the village with me?  
We'll bury the treasure and go down together,  
If I was a pirate..._

Salt. Sharp salt twists at her nostrils, her setting upon a domino effect of the senses. A cough chokes up in her throat, unable to fulfill its purpose and provide relief. Her chest dry heaves in an effort to release the building pressure.

She presses her cheek against splintered wood and heaves again, body spasming. Suddenly the cloth is taken from her mouth and she gasps on the air like a fish out of water. Well put, the idiom had another use in the situation, as to replicate the feeling to the girl of being out of her familiar home. But she's felt that for awhile now; Years now. A "new" environment was nothing new.

The dark skinned girl growls after her coughing fit dies down, taking the risk to stare into the eyes of her captor. She dons a wide brimmed, triangular brown leather hat with many scuffs and tears added in with time. Her eyes, a deep blue as the shimmering waters rocking the boat, nose stubby and small, mouth in a straight blank line, with a tinge of a scowl.

However, she realizes, her most prominent feature lies underneath the leather hat; tinged pink dreadlocks. 'Oh god that's a horrible color', she thinks immediately. The thin lipped expression turned into a clear scowl, as if she could read her mind.

"What the fuck do you want? Finally decided to torture me some more in this shit hole?" _Kon-dewako_." She finally lets out, voice husky from lack of use and air, and tagging on a curse word in her own language for added insult. It does the job she aims for.

It's humid in the room, small and extremely uncomfortable. Yet, she keeps up her pride. It's all she has left. The pink haired woman inhales deeply- being odd to the fact of the nasty smell, which the captured girl addresses with the wrinkle of her nose- and then exhales. She waits a moment before speaking, seeming to choose her words carefully.

"You're an amazing fighter. I've seen what you've done upon the Rancor during the raid." Hmm. A small smile, an unwanted predator, threatens to appear on her face. She forces it inwards at the unexpected compliment but keeps her on visible mask as she continues on. "It's Bold; fighting against your own shipmates. Especially during a-"

She rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to cut her off. "I was a slave, not a shipmate. Those asses didn't even see me as near equal to their livestock." Yes, the interruption irked the other, eyes becoming narrow and an impatient sigh escaping her lips again. Also the action of rubbing her temple was another one to be taken into consideration but, in all finality, she chooses to push it all down and not lash out.

"That is what I have come here to talk to you about. I am Captain Bubblegum of the C. Kingdom. I am here to offer you a spot on my crew. "She takes a moment to let a smile cross her over her frown. "As an equal. Food, shelter, all under the condition that you will remain loyal to me and respect my authority."

The girl crosses her legs as far as the chains will allow. "Why the hell should I?" She spits back, suppressed anger from many years of oppression bubbling up. A bitter laugh echoes in her ears and it takes her a moment to realize it's her own. "You must be clearly drunk off the best ale gold can buy, or…" The captain unconsciously leans in at the pause and she seizes it, leaning in as far as she can also until they're face to face. "You're just a plain dumbass. A dunce. A sweet-toothed idiot with a toy ship. "A scoff is heard near the end. To top it all off, she spits on her face, laughing as she jerks back in disgust.

It only takes a couple seconds for Captain Bubblegum to move into action. Three to be approximate. One second passes; she registers the girl's mocking laughter and words just spoken. Two; her fingers expose the spit on her cheek, flinging it to the floor in disgust. Three; her sword is already unsheathed, and brows lowered.

**Thwack!** One moment the dark skinned girl was up, in the captain's face, the next she is on the floor as the result of a heavy backhand. Before she can react her loose lapel is griped and curved with a fist, pressing her back into the wooden wall behind. The other hand claims a sword, and presses its blade into the sensitive skin on her throat. The girl blinks, still in shock from all the actions occurring so quickly. Soon, it relaxes into a glare, jaw clenched in some form of anger.

Bubblegum stares into her defiant glare, studying the deep green eyes before smashing her other fist into her nose. The green eyes don't blink, nor does their intensity or gaze waver. The only sign that she had felt it were the sag of her body and heavy stream of blood coming out of both nostrils. She holds her breath and her tongue, for speaking would result in something else unexpected, and swallowing out of nervousness would force the blade into her skin.

"I will be respected. That is law. Now as you know, you're life is in my hands. Your body could've gone to the sea, at any moment of my pleasing. Realize this; I saw, no, see more than just a fighter. Anyone could wield a sword or pistol, but it takes skill, wit, and intelligence to become a warrior. You have tact. A…" Her hand briefly shakes in her short inner desperation to find the right word. "passion that I've never seen in any fighter before. And I want that. I could help you get back to your homeland if that's what you want afterwards. But you need to cooperate or it's all going off the table, you hear me?"

Neither blink in an unspoken, yet somewhat childish contest of a staring; in which a blink nor break of stare would be accepted as weakness. She mutters, "What's your name?"

The girl of tribal origin works her jaw for a moment before chopping out in strain, "Mar-ce-line." A faint accent of something lingers near the last syllable, but is unidentifiable.

Bubblegum reaches behind her, unhinging the keys from their clasp and unlocking the iron shackles that'd bind her wrists and ankles for close to three weeks, leaving red welts upon her skin. She struggles to her feet, after being in a lying down or sitting position for so long, and takes the clothed elbow offered by the Captain. She drops it as soon as she can relax on her own two feet, wobbling from side to side. Eventually the need for to lean on something period is commonly known. So she instead leans on the wall.

After regaining her own stature, it was only by a couple inches that she can look down at her, but still the shorter girl's authority was clear. Not the least intimidated, she sticks her hand out and says, "Now, would you join my crew?" Marceline stares at the appendage extended towards her but takes it with a nod. Not accepting the offer was death, by murder, or by starving alone one, and in any other possible situation in her thoughts. As soon as contact is made, the two jerk back from each other, with disbelief.

Marceline squints at Bubblegum, wringing her calloused hands and cracking her knuckles. 'What the hell was that' her mind shouts, but she just holds the gaze. The only sound in the room is in the air; it's a marriage of disbelief and curiosity, rocking with the motion of the hull.

"Capt-ain! Your guidance is nee-ded!" A young voice calls from the top deck. As the Bubblegum motions for Marceline to follow while taking off her glove, she too reasons her sore but tingling palm to the constant use of the fabric and poor friction. Marceline chooses to believe it's just her body beginning to react to small unfulfilling portions of food as a captive and sudden movement from being still so long. For one thing is certain, one thing in common other than the obvious between the very different pair, is that they lie to themselves.

The voice belongs to a shorter blonde haired boy who struggles with some rope...that's coiled around his body. Marceline squints from the sun, and watches as Bubblegum sighs and walks over. Her voice turns oddly regal, and sweet. Gentler than with herself, she adds.

"Oh Finn, you just undo this specific knot here. See?" The jumble is quickly undone, leaving him sprawled across the deck. A deep rumble comes from behind her, and it takes Marceline a moment to realize that it's another voice. A hand clamps down on her shoulder, heavy and strong.

"Oh wow cap'in finally let you out of the cellar huh? You look pretty pale." He offers a smile from over her shoulder. She hisses at it, choosing to expose her sharpened canines. 'Better feared by foes, than friends' she reasons in her thoughts. He studies her before releasing his grip as if he could be burned by touch alone. An emotion flashes in his eyes, strong enough to make him tense up. _Wariness; close to fear. _He looks away, mumbling the rest. "We knew she was going to with the way she'd visit you all the time anyway."

Bubblegum calls over, arms crossed. Flush dedicates itself to her neck, from the heat and the statement. "N-no you did not! I was just… checking on the captive. It's my duty!" She pauses and then adds, "Last time I checked, gossip is not the duty of a quartermaster, Jake." At her attention he relaxes. Jake rubs the back of his neck and then runs his hands through his brown medium length hair.

"Okay, okay. I believe ya." He holds his hands up in submission, but his eyes tell another tale, along with his words that drip with sarcasm. She blinks at him and then back at Bubblegum for the response. 'She allows them to talk to her like that or are they just that close?' The captain smiles, posture relaxing and strides off, taking a pale arm in tow. A little too roughly, she notes.

Passing the taller man she says with the shake of her finger, "Just calm it down and hold that tongue of yours, Dogman. Just before you lose it, eh?" Marceline catches a glimpse of him bumping fists with Finn before she's whisked away into another room.

* * *

"Here wear this." It's tight as predicted. The white tunic up hangs too tight to her body for comfort and trousers are clinging to her legs for dear life. However, she doesn't voice this discomfort. She still doesn't trust this..this person. Marceline just grunts and runs a hand through her hair, letting it catch on the many tangles.

Captain notices how she doesn't object and takes a second look at her through the corner of her eyes. Despite her naturally thin form, the clothing hugs her figure much..er.. too tight for any productivity. She groans, throwing another pair at her. Apparently, she's not her size. "If it didn't fit you should've said something"

Begrudgedly, she slides it on, it fitting much looser than the one previous. Still she mutters under her breath. The rest of the day is spent in turmoil, with a mixture of side-glares and spiteful mumbles from being ordered around by the captain and show the ropes of the different jobs on the ship.

At night, she ne'er sleeps, choosing to drift in short stents of time, ten-minute intervals or rest, with a knife under her pillow. It'd be a lie to say she hasn't thought of murdering everyone in their sleep hasn't crossed her mind, but then she'd live up to what they call her people: _savages. _She'd never live up to their expectations, the white men. But in addition, the fact that she'd die from a possible raid on the course back to her home isn't unlikely. The odds were against all her plans at this point, so better to follow rules then get killed.

Survival is everything. Yet, her interactions with the captain threatened that motto every day.

By the end of the week, it's an easy assessment that the tribal girl wants nothing more to do with the plundering life. Still, some of the other crew mates seem nice enough; she finds it extremely entertaining to scare the quartermaster, Jake, who seems to be frightened to death of her. His younger brother however, Finn, seems to be the exact opposite and follows her around from time to time. Despite his annoying excitement and enthusiasm for almost anything, when he learns to shut up, he can be tolerable enough for a weak smile once or twice.

The ship cook, a small old woman with more than enough sass to last her lifetime, is known as T.T. Many other crewmates littered the decks, most extremely obeying of the captain, unlike Marceline herself. She chooses to wreck as much havoc as possible for the woman, at any chance possible. But it needs to be in a balance; enough trouble to antagonize, not enough to get killed from. She retains some pride taken from her this way; pride is everything.

It's that balance that sets the tension between the two, thick enough that anyone, even the oblivious boy Charlie-Bun can sense it. And let me remind you: Charlie-bun was the one to alert their enemy ship, the Betty, of their presence by inviting them to a tea party.

**NOTE TO REMEMBER:**

**Charlie-bun or also known as Charlie-boy is a very slow child and does not think things through as one should. However, his sickeningly sweet atmosphere does help in raising the morale of the crew of horrid times, so it seems to weigh out itself. Just remember not to give him candy; a lesson learned, the boy doesn't respond well with sweets.**

Months drive on by, everyday longer than the last.

Interactions vary from many things, most likely the best example being:

"Now, you all o'er here are gonna swab the decks. Including you, Abadeer" She shoots her a look, as if saying with her eyes' I dare you to defy my authority' and continues. "I want these floorboards so clean we could eat off of 'em. Now scrub!"

As the small group scuttles to work, Marceline gets her own swab/mop. Bubblegum watches for the first couple minutes before going to use the bathroom in her quarters. Immediately, the woman runs over, swabbing the entire area in front of the door, and many yards in front. Her partners just watch in horror as the woman returns, opening the door to see the other goofing off.

"Abadeer! Get over here!" She smirks, looking over at her, twirling the mop stick.

"You'll just have to come o'er here and get me Cap'in." She grits her teeth, prepared to bolt after her and takes one large step- slipping swiftly on the slick surface. Her face smashes against the wood; she lays there, still in shock to what just happened.

Marceline guffaws, bringing the reality to happened crashing down around her. "Oh you decided to eat them floorboards already? How they taste, huh?" Mild snickers from the group go up at the tease and bubblegum flushes red hot.

Before any of them could react, she was off the floor, slipping/sprinting to the other woman and dragging her by her ear into her quarters. The door was closed with a slam hard enough to rattle the entire hull. All they knew was that she stayed in there for the rest of the day and at dinner, she returned with a bruised eye, and a towel tied around her sore jaw.

Now that example being made it's no wonder they never got on the right foot. Somewhat at least, until one night.

Marceline goes up for watch one night, standing upon her front watch of the ship: the bow. Looking over the dark seas used to thrill her to no end, but alas, the years of being a slave has worn her off of the feeling. The sensation that burns inside her chest, an overcoming sense of elation and pride, bursting through every smile. The feeling that got her up every morning with a kick in her step, despite what lay ahead. It was...joy. She's lost that a long time ago.

Nostalgia threatens to take over her wandering mind, but she doesn't let it. Another night of self-pity, despair, and tears isn't in her interests. Still, through it all, she watches the waves churn and roll under the blue sky, withholding bounds of stars and the moon, looming over it all. But she feels nothing. Eventually, after what's either an hour or two (it's hard to keep track anymore) a new sound takes her attention. Her hand automatically takes to the hilt of her sword, but slow enough to be unnoticeable.

They try to sound quiet, becoming softer and softer until they're only a couple feet away. She sighs inwardly when nothing happens over the next couple seconds, dropping her hand a little bit lower than her sword, enough to relax, but not enough to be in the face of danger. This has been the, hm, fifth, six time this has happened? Frankly it's hard to keep track of that also, with its happenings occurring so much. Every time she'd have the bow watch, someone would come up, and a few minutes during sunrise- sunrise signaling the end of her shift- they'd leave. She still hasn't caught them yet.

As usual, she acts as if she's noticed nothing, staring blankly out unto the seas. Soon, the sky brightens of the tell-tale signs of the showing of the horizon. Stars glitter into nothing, replacing with baby clouds. This is when Marceline chooses to make her move. Her voice is calm as the gentle laps against the hull of the ship, yet colder than the waters below.

"I know you're still there. No need to leave before sunrise again."

The wind is her reply, with the occasional caw of some unknown bird. Her hands rest against her sides, one boot propped up against the floorboards and the other stationary. A creak, just a creak from the thousands she's heard of that night appears. But it's not the same. She sighs impatiently.

"Are you going to make yourself known, or am I going to have to chop your arm off? I really don't appreciate games, crew-member or not."

Another creak, deliberate. Her wrist twitches by her blade handle.

Marceline swivels on one heel precisely, muttering an ancient saying in her native tongue when a sword comes flying right by her cheek, slicing open the flesh slightly. With her momentum she moves forward, sliding her own bade along the other one in a deflection and landing a cut, arching from the other's forearm to their elbow. They fight fast and light, seemingly moving with the motions of an experienced fighter. Neither is faster than the other, yet they seem to dance on air, twisting and turning with such precision, that even sound itself seems to be left in the dust.

The injuries, sight scrapes and cuts, start to pile up. Marceline unhands her opponent's sword, accidentally along with her own. Before she knows it, they're skidding across the deck and her body is being swept from underneath.

A quick side kick to the shin knocks her face hard against the wood, blood dripping from her nose. A heavy hand brings her eyes to meet, blue ones. Familiar blue ones that stare at her with an unreadable emotion every day. She scowls in realization as a voice accompanies it.

"Next time you threaten to attack your own crew, try making sure it isn't the fucking captain." She replicates her scowl, but doesn't drop the grip. Marceline has the urge to bare her teeth in a snarl, but holds it back. Bubblegum is the only one she can't scare nor intimidate. And that's dangerous on its own.

It's a silent match of wills; it always is when their gazes meet. Who will look away first, declaring themselves to submit, to be weak and who will say something to raise the stakes? Every second adds on the defiance, the stubborn-headedness of the two.

For once, neither of them has to submit. It's left, for the first time, a tie. Bubblegum's eyes widen as she spots something in her peripheral vision, at the exact same time as Marceline. The two both turn and look at the rising sun, sky bright and alive with an array of dazzling pinks, orange's, yellows and blues. The prime of the world. The sight's hauntingly beautiful to say the least, _the minimum_ and the tension dissipates.

Bubblegum slumps down next to her rival, mouth slightly agape from the sight. Marceline just watches the colors turn and mold into each other, swallowing every once in awhile, and living in compassion. She's also the first to tear her eyes away from it all and glance at the captain beside her. Blue eyes stare at her inquisitively as an understanding is met, unspoken as always. By the time the captain blinks and turns to the other, she's being offered back the hilt of her blade. With a blank face she accepts it and the two go their separate ways.

A week later, they're both back at the bow, watching over the sunrise. Not a word exchanges, nothing changing. Absently, before the two leave once more, they each mumble something of their own respects.

Bonnibel chooses to say, "I come up for the sunrise. It's the only peace I get sometimes." Marceline nods her respects and then they're on their way.

The next week, Marceline says, "Back at my village, we had a painter. He'd paint paintings of fires so beautiful you'd think God send it to grace earth."

Bonnibel replies quietly, "I'd love to see that, I really would" before turning on back down to her quarters. Marceline remains at the perch before following, back down her sleeping quarters herself.

Week after week, short small talk you could say occurs. Of course they spit and gravel at each other during the waking day, but once every week they'd meet up during the night, no harsh words ever once lingering on their tongues. An odd relationship to most, but easy to understand to those two others.

One late night, Bonnibel breaks the rule to murmur before sunrise at the dimming moon, "I wish I could fly sometimes." Marceline just raises a brow in response, face blank as ever. She'd learned already how the woman had a prim and proper life in the city before stowing away on the crude ship, Lemongrab. It was horrid for such a lady as she was raised, but the dirty, swearing, swash bucklers brought her to life. It broke the bounds of the society she was born into. Just from a few sentences here and there she'd learned that all.

So, her response was somewhat in and out of the ordinary. She kept her brow raised as she murmured, "You can."

Confusion, alas was all over her company's face. "How?" Her response prompts a set of quick events, which lead her up to the crow's nest high above the entire vessel. The rising wind presses in their bodies in the small area. Marceline taps the ledge of the wooden tub in which they stand.

Bubblegum says over the wind, "What?!" The quieter girl is more confusing sometimes, her actions making no sense whatsoever until she explains them. And explain she does.

With a roll of the eyes she says back, "Hop up on the ledge." The captain's eyes bulge comically.

"Are you insane; in this wind I'd fall!"

Marce still appears bored with her responses to her own requests. "I'll hold you; just do it. We don't have all day. The sun's about to come up." Indeed her prediction is correct, because in just another five minutes, the sky brightens considerably.

"Hurry up, or you're gonna miss your chance. I'm not gonna do this again." Bubblegum seems to mull it over in her panicked state. Logic and reason seem to fly in through one ear and out the other when she gives one last attempt, brows furrowing.

"You could kill me. I can get up there right now and you'd be able to just send me tumblin' to my death." It's more of a statement than question. Marceline shrugs.

"I know that. Trust me or not." That doesn't offer much comfort and she seems to also realize this when she adds afterwards quietly, "It's your choice Bonnibel."

Her name. A mixture of emotions flurry though Bubblegum at the sound of it. Is it defiance, speaking her first name, or is it an act of comfort, familiarity? Or is it just a way for her to let her guard down enough to be murdered? All these go through her mind at the moment. She chooses, no, hopes it's the first. For…surviving reasons.

With the sharp inhale of breath, Bubblegum places her boot upon the wood, hearing every creak and groan in protest. Green eyes urge her on and she places the middle of her other boot on it, eyes tight shut. A large burst of wind attacks just then, threatening to pull her down. Another thought occurs to her then that she hasn't thought of before: Marceline doesn't have to have to wrong intent; in fact, she just may be honest right now. The wind could do the bidding itself, and an accident could occur.

Before she can react to this revelation, steady hands wrap around her buckle and waist, hold her upright and in place. Marceline seems unnerved by their close proximity and calls above the wind to her, "Now just stop the fucking panic-attack and fly!"

The statement as always is vague, too vague to understand. But somehow for once, she does exactly she says and flies. The wind no longer appears to hate, but instead flows through her hair and clothes, lifting her higher. For the briefest of moments, she's not on a ship, but above in the skies, clouds ruffling her line of sight. She soars above the clear water's seeing as far into the distance that she can relishing in the crisp morning air. With the occurring sunrise, warmth floods over her body, a tingly sensation overall. But only _for a moment._

After what feels to be an eternity, she cheers into the skies, grinning as hard as her face will let her. Marceline unknowingly chuckles, head resting against her hip and looking up. Her mouth speaks in a tone foreign to herself. It's…warmer.

"How is it up there?" Bubblegum glances down, smile infectious as scurvy on the high seas. Marceline instantly feels her face begin to replicate it.

"Amazing! I feel like I'm on top of the world!" Her voice rings through the air.

"Well, My shift's gonna end in a bit, so…" the sentence drowns out her voice as her smile falters. Something pulls at the inside of the tribal girl's chest to see it do so. Quickly she adds, "We can do it next week if waters are calm enough."

It instantly lights up again and she climbs down carefully. "That sounds…acceptable, Abadeer." Again their gazes lock, but something lies newly under each of the pair. Now, lingers the competition of confusion. Both eyes seem to hold something behind them, an unspoken emotion that twists at their insides. Marceline tries to decipher the message behind Bonnibel's deep ocean irises, but ends up drowning in them unplanned; Bonnibel on the other side getting lost in the jungle that deems the other girl's.

A sharp smack of a large wave against the hull shakes them from their trance and they climb down, going separate ways as always. Something changed that early due morning. For better or for worst they never knew. But the answer comes faster than they both expect.

**END OF PART ONE OF THREE**


	3. If I was a Pirate: part 2

Life goes on aboard the C. Kingdom as usual. Cleaning, planning plunders, and cooking also go as planned. But the Betty popping out of nowhere? That isn't. Now firstly, other events do occur before such a large occasion, to which also deserve attention.

Marceline's doing the daily check of the sails with Finn and Jake. Jake's attitude changes the slightest with her improved attitude. But that sentence is enough to baffle her. Improved attitude? She can't deny that for the past couple month's life's gotten much better and her crewmate's have become easier to be around. Half of them finally stopped being afraid of her for one. Two is a certain captain with dreadlocks of Bubblegum.

Her brows furrow at the thought of the girl and her hands move to hand uselessly at her sides in thought. Their relationship(dare she call it that) is confusing… Like it's always been, but now it's worse. Her gaze is no longer hostile at all, and she's caught her smiling from occasion to occasion when they're alone.

Of course she's still strict with the rest; a captain must demand respect to their authority. But on those few hours during the night, they can just talk or not say a word, and just think. Either way, it's completely fine. She, despite herself, even taught her a couple native words in her native tongue. It's safe to say Bubblegum babbled like an idiot for the first few tries until she got a good hold.

Now, _that_ thought is smile worthy.

Finn elbows her in the side for attention. "Hey Marce you done? Wanna go see if we can mooch some fruit from T.T? I'm starvin'." At the exaggeration she notes in the back of her mind, 'You've never starved before' but pushes the sour statement down. Although its probably true, with her newfound upbeat life, it's easier to not say such things.

Jake notices their leave and carefully sets down his things, following right on beside. T.T's kitchen is downstairs, to the right of the vessel, taking up a large room. She, as always is baking something. Finn does a special knock before striding in. "Hey, T.T, you got any fruit to spare? Just a snack." T.T set's her hands on her hips, shaking a finger at his face.

"Why you knows we just got a new fruit shipment from that last quick snatch'em up! Just don't go tellin' nobody. I don't need Captain up here in my kitchen, ya hear?" They all nod quickly and she returns with an armful.

Jake exclaims as he gets a mango, "Ahh score! Exotic one's like these don't come far to few." Finn pouts momentarily before receiving his share of two banana's. Marceline opens her mouth to add how she likes redder fruit when two shiny red pomegranates drop in her arms and a small knife.

"Ahh- what! These only come from the far reaches of the Flamma isola!" she gasps out.

"I already know what you like Marceline. Open 'em yourself; I'm too busy. Now go on and get outta here." She waves the group out the backdoor. They all yell a chorus of thanks to the woman before running up to the far back stern of the ship, in a special spot many don't go.

In the shade another small room they sit against the wood, facing the twinkling waters. Finn unpeels a banana and promptly eats half in one bite. "To scurvy!" He says as a cheer, raising the rest in the air. They all agree and begin eating…except Marceline. She tries her best to carve in half the fruit, trying as hard as possible to not let much of the juice spill out.

"Ahh this is it, ain't it?" Finn mumbles, blonde locks stuck to his forehead.

Jake agrees in another mouthful. "Yeah, just chillin' with buds, starin' cross the blue skies and blue sea."

"I wish I could get away more often, ya think?"

"Ya man."

At one point the outside of the reddish fruit is so tough it wrenches her knife from her grasp and across the floorboards. "Fuck! It's almost open." She sets them both down to crawl quickly into the sunlight to retrieve the blade. When it shows that they had landed right under a pair of boots, she risks a look up. Shady blue eyes bore into her own and Finn squeaks in the background. The captain picks up the knife and twirls around in one hand on her fingertips.

"I take it you all are slackin' off?" Marceline snatches it from her grasp and returns nonchalantly to cutting her snack.

"No, just a little break. You should take one yourself, Bonnibel." She visibly stiffens at her first name being used, not from the woman since it's happened plenty of times now, but from the fact that it's in front of the two brothers. Jake raises a brow, but goes back to eating, and slowly Finn does too. It's an unspoken censuses to ignore her authority for the moment.

Now Bubblegum faces two choices. She's faced with the choice either to punish them for ignoring her authority and punish Marceline for not addressing her at Captain in public, but that would only cause them both to address the fact as of why she lets her call her by that in the first place. Why she even lets her use her first name. And…to be honest, she doesn't know the answer herself. So, she does the latter: join them and not ruin the relaxing atmosphere.

With a sigh she sits down beside the taller girl. Marceline in turn plucks the triangular leather hat off her head, placing it on the floor. "It's too fucking cool over here for that thing. Relax, Cap'n." A warm smile breaks it's way across her face and _relax she does._

Marceline finally cuts it open, offering half to her. She decides to save the other whole fruit for later. Bonnibel takes it with a nod and they all sit silently watching the movements of the ocean.

Long after everyone finishes and thrown the scraps into the waters below, they sit until sunset, watching the sun move downwards burning the blue sky into a hot orange. When the sun's no longer visible and purple takes it's place, they all rise to their feet. Bubblegum places her hat back on her head and stalks off without another word. The rest look at each other, shrug, and move to the mess hall for some grub.

Another routine appears, every week those four find a way to meet up, and watch the passing scenery in the shade. Bubblegum always takes off her hat and get into a friendly banter, no longer a certain air of importance restraining them. At sunset, they break away with smiles, reentering to their positions, none the wiser.

* * *

One oddly cold day in the midst of the summer, the Betty came for a fight. Bubblegum relishes how she should've seen it coming; a rumor's been told how the skies grow cold when he's near, how his touch can chill you to the bone.

However, by the time they had rummaged close enough, it was too late to turn back. So, she fights.

"THE BETTY IS HERE! PREPARE YER BLADES!" Finn yells under deck to those who haven't noticed. Marce scampers from her perch, dropping her book, pen and ink under her pillow to prevent some from stealing, or worse, reading. She makes it into the dim light above deck, two swords for match, ready in her hands.

A large rope swings lazily from their mast, men lining up on the other deck to grasp a hold. Bubblegum finds her way through the crowd to be next to her. "What is hell's name are they doin'?"

Charlie-bun yells out through the midst, being the first to realize it's purpose. (even odder; what an odd day) "Ya guys! Theys is gonna swing from 'em!"

Instantly after, the white clad pirates are in the air, landing boldly on deck. The ropes swish back quickly, for more to swing onto from. At the sound of her own crew being thrown into the waters below strikes everyone into action. The clinks of blades ensure and soon enough Marceline is kicking ass once again. Quite literally to add, when she kicks another stray fighter in the bottom overboard.

Bodies rustle all around her, and she spots Finn and Jake kicking some ass too, following after. They a nod in brief understanding (whilst grinning) and return to the battle. T.T even joins in when a couple try to go down and ravage the kitchen for supplies, coming up on deck and beating them with a heavy iron pan. The girl fills with pride. Even T.T can hold her own here; never has she felt so proud of her crew mates upon the ship.

The brief thought of Bubblegum being tossed overboard also flashes in her thoughts, and something tightens in her chest, making it harder to breath. She immediately tries to look over the mass of grunts and cries, catching a battle between pink and blue. A man with a braided white beard, a long pointed nose and blue attire unlike his crew fights the girl, yelling out random things here and there. A brief thought of recognition catches in her throat and she slowly lowers her blades.

He seems to be a white man that'd come to her village when she was younger. He'd been skinny, of course pale, and goofy as can be. His hair also used to be brown, and splayed out to the sides in a wild fashion. However he offered something different then from the others that had came and attacked; he wanted to co-exist. At first…everyone was wary, but her father, the chief, finally let him. Quickly he gained the hearts of everyone from his intelligence and kindness, especially Marceline. He was given the tattoo of a shaman, a high place for his status. He was the one who had taught her to play that European stringed instrument he called a 'gui-tar' and sing in English.

He'd been her only friend when she had none. After he'd left, she was devastated, but life went on. Seeing him battling like this, something in his gentle brown eyes was gone, replaced with madness. Conflict rages in her heart as he begins slowly edging her to the edge, unbeknownst to the woman. Save Simon-ice king as he calls himself- and possibly lose her keep/stay here, and maybe…Bonnibel (yeah- wait what?) or fight him and break her own heart in the process?

Her dilemma seems to solve itself in a matter of seconds as she comes up with a plan. Quickly, she dives into the mass of bodies, hitting anyone in white, all while making her way to the duo. Bonnibel's just about pressed against the edge when she makes it.

"Bonni- I mean Cap'n!" She yells out, taking both their attention, trying to alert the other of her position. A stray blade slashes against her back and she groans, pausing to swerve around and cut off the other man's hand. Bubblegum smirks suddenly, nodding once as she sweeps her leg to the side, knocking the Ice King overboard. She had anticipated the position all along.

It all seems to move slower in motion. Bubblegum's face transforming into confusion as Marceline dives to grasp his hands. In those panicked brown eyes play something, a brightening of recognition at herself. He mouths her name slowly, as if recalling a far away memory and scuffles back on the deck with her help. Bubblegum grabs her shoulder the second she let's go and he's back on deck, gasping. Her fist crashes into her cheek and Marceline stumbles back a couple steps.

An emotion of hurt passes over both of their faces at the same time. Bubblegum spits, "What the hell was that! Betryal?!"

Marceline wants to growl or bite back at her, but focuses on taking Simon's pistol and sword away from him instead. He still stares off into the distance, not really reacting to much happening. Aloft. Once she has his wrists tied to a post on the deck, she tosses her the stray weapons, the man disarmed.

"Here; he's fuckin harmless now." Bubblegum goes to hit her again, but she side steps the blow, sweeping her off her feet. While Bonnibel may easily be able to hit her, Marceline can't bring herself to raise a fist against her anymore. That same thing in her chest, her gut, or somewhere in her torso just constricts at the thought of it.

She yells to the battle below, relaxed to find their side is winning by much more. "All C.K crew! Simon- I mean Ice King has been tied up; toss the rest o'er board to their deaths and let's clean up this mess!"

They all give a large yell in reply, pushing anyone on white(or now stained crimson) torwards the sides of the vessel, pushing them into the water being a much quicker alternative then physicaly killing them. She turns to Bonnibel, pinning her wrists to the floor before she can hit her burns bright in her gaze, face grit.

Marceline, once she gets over the emotions flaring on the others face, says "Hear me out: you can't kill Simon."

She freezes mid growl to think for the moment. "Who is Simon?" Marceline looks at the older man mumbling to himself a couple feet away.

"Ice King was Simon. I don't know what happened to him, the sea must've made him mad, but I knew him as long as I can remember. He was a shaman at my village." Her eyes sizzle down to just confusion and she adds solemnly, looking away, "He's..uh… probably the only family I've seen in the past 12 years." Bonnibel's gaze softens completely, and she knocks her head back on the floor boards beneath her, looking up in defeat.

"Hell Marceline…why does your long lost family member have to be him? He's been pillaging ships for years now, targeting the ones with females as captains. Holy hell, why him?" The mood lightens considerably and the cheers from below signal the end of the battle. Faint murmurs of Jake sending groups to go pillage the ship for supplies and weapons are heard in the background.

Warm breath flushes over her cheeks. Marceline decides to let her go, and sit back up then from two things: one, she doesn't seem like she's gonna punch her anytime soon and two, being a breath away from each other suddenly became extremely awkward.

She runs a hand through her dreadlocks, taking off her hat for a moment. Blood splatters stain the leather. "Well what do ya want me to do with him then?" The other girl frowns in thought before snapping her fingers.

"Oh! You could just let him go?" Bubblegum looks horrified at the thought. So… not the best choice.

"How about we just sell him to one of my old friend's ships as a slave? Sounds easy to me." Bubblegum suggests, picking the blood from under her fingernails.

Its then the other girl's turn to look horrified, and disgusted as a bonus. Bubblegum realizes a second too late what she just said, and _who_ she said it to. Marceline's hands clasp and unclasp into fists, shaking.

"Don't..ever…suggest..that. If you can respect what I've gone through don't even _think about it._"

She holds her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, I never… Look I apologize. I never meant it like that; we won't sell him then. Forgive me?" After a few deeper breaths, she nods. The dilemma leaves both lost. As the sun begins to dim, they move Ice King to the holding cell that once occupied the tribal girl only a year before. Jake, Marceline, and Bubblegum meet in the captain's quarter's to decide on his fate.

Jake at first goes to suggest slavery, but with one shake of the head from Bonnibel, he's shut down.

"Why?" Her eyes harden, jaw clenching at the man. Her hands clench into fists with sudden anger at him; an unconscious trait she's already picked up from the tribal girl. Her reaction is immediate, as if on instinct. Marceline watches on, face blank.

"Because I said so. Don't ever think of that again. Now; something else. No death, no slavery."

He groans, throwing up his arms frustration. "I can't think of anything else!"

Marceline scoots her chair closer. "How about we take him in as the doctor for a sick bay. We've yet to find someone who has the skills to do it and any of us could catch somthin' one of these days, especially now that winter'll be on us quicker than ever."

Jake blinks. "He knows medicine?" Marceline nods. How she got that information, he doesn't question. But instead slaps his hands on the table.

"As long as he doesn't try to kill any of us in our sleep, I'm fine. But being a part of the crew? The whole idea's wary."

Bubblegum mulls it over before nodding once in her direction, a smile hinting on her lips. "We'll figure something out. We'll need a doctor. Good job Abadeer. But it'll only work if he'll cooperate, got me?"

Marceline and Bubblegum make their way down to the cells with the proposition a week later.

Ice King is tracing something on the walls before looking up with blank eyes at their presence. Bubblegum's tone changes instantly and to Marceline's curiosity, it sounds just like how it was used on her before. Harsh and indifferent. So much has changed.

"Ice King! We have a deal for you." He blinks in silence and she continues. "You can offer your loyalty and services as a medic to our crew or die."

He laughs a nasally snort, but his eyes aren't fully in the present yet, still looking far off. "That's not much of a choice."

Marceline steps up, opening the door to crouch in front of the man. His eyes widen when she takes off her red bandana, and flip her hair back into it's regular style. Before she was captured long ago. When she was just a girl.

This is her one shot. Her mind whirs in memory as she recalls her native tongue, choosing her words correctly.

"U-jio fhatna SÏmon naba-ba… rẽsca. … no…she- nonakene." The words hang in the word as he blinks, tensing up before smiling. (To this day only Bonnibel knows exactly what she had said to find a trace of the man she knew, but it was nothing short of something purely beautiful) Yet, for once this whole day, Simon peeks through his crazed mask.

"Marceline? I… I non-cha fhatna mo-kẽ?" He fails to hide astonished grin, stroking his beard. "Cavities my dear. Cavities. I thought I told you better." The statement peeks through the glimpse of the man she once knew; she fights tooth and nail to keep him there.

The conversation takes a clearly confusing turn for the Captian as Marceline clams up, face turning redder. "Seriously! Simon; please."

His face settles into a blank stare, but eyes continue to shimmer in hope. In hope that this could work. All if she doesn't screw it up with the wrong words, because those wrong words could bring back the Ice king in a second.

Her eyes get hot and she blinks them away. She hasn't cried in years; this won't start now. "Join us Simon. I want to protect you. You've done the same to me, it's my turn."

He frowns in thought before sighing deeply and nodding once, eyes turning a calm brown. "Yes. I'll join ya crew. I ain't got much goin for an old man like me these days. Plenty of them lady cap'ns don't take much a liking to me anyways."

Bubblegum takes a step in disbelief. "You fight ships with female captains' to _hit on them?_ Like some twisted dating service?!"

He nods, scuffing his beard in thought. "Aye, it seems though they all hate my guts, but nevertheless.."

Bubblegum remains unnerved, and offers a thanks before the two leave. Once outside and into the night, she goes to return to her captain's quarters when Marceline engulfs her in a large hug, very similar to Jake's. The darker woman nestles her face into her shoulder. She freezes before slowly returning it with a smile.

"Thanks Bonnie." It's short and simple, not giving much away. But it's enough. Bubblegum thinks she hears a sniffle come into her collarbone but ignores it.

Marceline is surprisingly warm on such a cool night. The words come out quieter than she expects. Her hands wrap around from under her arms to pull her head closer, mumbling into her black head of hair, "Anytime."

* * *

Anytime. The phrase intrigues, inspires possibly her next actions when they meet. It's just like always, when in the midst of the night she says absently, "I want to fly again." Her eyes don't leave the wood as the other woman stares at her curiously.

Finally, she looks up. "Could you, possibly?" To anyone else it would appear as a simple gesture, a simple question. Yet both know how much the question implies, and how much willpower it took for her to say it. It… leaves her vulnerable at such a request; emotionally and with her pride. Vulnerable. Something a captian should not be.

Marceline stands without a word and leaves the deck. It's only when she's griping the rope at the base of the mast that she speaks. "Are ya coming or not?" A smile hints at her lips and Bubblegum stands, shoulders relaxing.

This time she takes the edge of the small area without hesitance, partly surprising the taller one. She doesn't say much to address it, or to ponder too heavily upon it (for it would only confuse her more) so all she does in response is wrap her arms around a waist, and rest her head upon her hip. A calm stillness overtakes her, lulling the senses.

If it isn't for the frequent warning in fear of dropping Bonnibel, she might just go to sleep. But this alertness that it asserts allows her to smile, and enjoy the moment even more. To enjoy it all the while until it's daybreak, when her arms are slightly tired yet smile content, when they turn to go to their separate spaces with a lingering glance before, when they unconsciously can't wait until the next week to come upon them both.

**END OF PART TWO OF THREE**

* * *

**Hmhm hmmm. One more installment to go for this part(P.s I just realized how annoyingly stressful it is to wait a week, soo I've decided to update it in between every 1-5 days.)**


	4. If I was a Pirate: part 3

The moon stretches over the waters this night, longer than usual. As it's presence fades into light blue, Bonnibel voices this.

"The moon particularly large t'night."

"Yeah it is."

Her eyes drift over to Marceline, frowning at her curt response.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." The reply is immediate. Dark brows scrunch as her gaze hardens over the sea. Bonnibel can only get up from her seat and stand up next to her, leaning over the ledge also.

"Fine then; what's _bothering _you?"

This catches a note. She rubs her temples and sighs, "Simon."

"He's doing finer than we both could've imagined; the crew's warming up to him."

"Not-that." She clears her throat and continues, voice quieter than previous, as if the waters would take it away before any ears could hear. "He reminds me of home."

Bubblegum's mouth twitches downwards in a formidable frown. She then does something she's never really done to before, in this.. particular manner. She reaches an arm over at first, but then decides inwardly on wrapping both arms around her. She stands limp in her embrace, and for a spilt-second Bonnibel ponders withdrawing her embrace, but then drops the thought as soon as Marceline's hands find their way into her coat pocket's.

Neither verbally discuss the action, the reasoning behind it either. Marceline only offers a, "You're warm" in her shoulder before going silent.

They stay that way until sunrise, until daybreak, only being a close to half hour from the beginning. They break apart slowly, hesitance lingering like in the traces of the last stars or two remaining in the currently a lit sky.

Marceline's lips move to mouth a familiar word, but Bonnibel beats her to it, saying quickly, "Thanks."

Now it's her turn to look confused. "For what?"

Her hands (not in gloves for once) slide down to hold hers, by the wrists. "For letting me hold you. You normally probably would've broken away."

A dry chuckle escapes her throat. "People… change. I needed it more anyways."

Those same hands shift lower in the blink of an eye, curving around the other's warmly. Now, if even for the three second duration they stay like this for the pink haired woman to speak, it's still all the notice. Her voice is even lower than her own previous, a notch above the whisper of the wind passing by.

"You'll be surprised on how far you're wrong. Thank _you_."

The warmth is gone as she whisks down the steps and returns to her quarters. What the woman doesn't catch is how the girl holds her hands a moment after, frowning at emptiness.

However, it's these heart beats of moments, moments implying _something_ different, that all build up.

And as every sailor to captain knows, build-ups must always have a release.

* * *

Ice King takes some times getting used to, especially for the crew. After about four month to going on five months Bubblegum finally lets him out of watch duty, and is able to go around on free will (but still not in the kitchen nor weaponry, T.T still doesn't want'im near sharp things) It' a long wait, but dutibly appreciated.

Eventually the rest of them warm up to him too, since that's just how the crew seems to be. Marceline starts to really feel at home for once. In his quarter's room old back during the raid, Jake and them discovered a map detailing a buried small treasure on an island, near the coast. It took them nearby a half year, but finally they make it close enough to consider whether to check for it or not. Unsure about the intentions and the possibility of tribe being there, they voted for the captain and their best fighter/translator(in case of violent natives) to make a quick overnight trip to see if it's real. Meaning Marceline and Bubblegum.

Marceline growls and grumbles at first, but soon finds it more fun than thought. Bonnibel takes the lead, the taller girl being extra grateful for the absence of her hat. She seems to hold less responsibility without it.

More…Bonnibel and less Cap'n Bubblegum.

"So look here, the guy's all like, 'you are pretty for a slave' and the next thing he knows he's curled over on the floor." She ends smugly.

"So you kicked him in the _stuff_?" Bonnibel laughs. Marceline only swings from a drooping palm tree's base for a moment before continuing.

"Yeah! No way was I gonna let some guard with a stupid haircut for one, and an even dumber name of _Ash _for two, feel me up!"

They laugh and joke a bit some more before finding a place to settle for the night, about only a third of the way from so called treasure. For the most part, the small patch of floating land seems deserted. Marceline gets a fire going from experience and Bonnibel takes out the food packed from T.T.

"Ahh T.T always knows how to make a mean dinner." Marceline agrees between mouthfuls of strawberries, a treat taken from Ice King's old ship kitchen. The other girl grimaces at her display, old etiquette coming in for a moment.

"Don't talk with food still in your mouth."

She swallows. "Sorry. I just never had these things before but they're red and fuckin' good. Can't help myself." She wipes her mouth with her arm and eats her personally packed dinner, staring up at the stars.

She finishes a while after her and joins, lying next to her, staring up at the vast and twinkling sky above. The fire crackles only a couple feet away, warding off any cold in the diameter.

Bonnibel shivers from the brief breeze in. Marceline yawns and shifts beside her. Other than that, the silence is mutual for a good portion of it all.

"You ever _been_ with someone Bonnibel?"

The question comes out of nowhere, catching her extremely off guard. She takes a couple seconds to respond. Marceline's face is unreadable. "Uh, no." Much to Marceline's discomfort, this...girl sitting beside her is the one person that knows close to everything about her. Other than Simon. Hopefully, she thinks, it's the same with Bonnibel.

She drums her fingers upon the unknown sand beneath. "…Hm." And that's that. Bonnibel takes a good long look at Marceline, eyes still unreadable. 'Ahh, her eyes.' She ponders. Those…deep, wild greens and traces of browns and red's. She's never understood them. Maybe someday she will. Maybe that someday is coming closer. Hopefully.

Out of the deeper blue, she asks in return, "What've you been writing all the time in that book of yours?" Marceline flinches.

"Just..thoughts."A small smile seeps into the shorter girl's face.

"What kind of thoughts? Can you read it to me?"

"I..uh… It's personal."

"I'm sure that you know close to everything about me." She sighs in exasperation. "Can't you at least read the last thing you wrote? That's it."

"…uh.. it's a song."

The girl jerks up at that, leaning over with a grin. "Wait- you wrote a song…You can sing?" Marceline sits up also.

"Simon taught me.. to sing in English anyways." She runs a hand through her hair and asks quietly, "You really want me too?"

Bonnibel leans closer, out of habit to hear her and nods. She lies back down with a smile. "I'd love it, Marcy."

If the nickname is supposed to calm her down, it does do at least that. Somewhat. Marceline swallows and reaches in the pack she was carrying, slowly sliding out the book and flipping to the right page. She glances over it a couple times. A pause grows in the silence, stretching to cover almost a minute her voice carries out into the silent night, soothing and cool as the waves by the shore.

_My Bonnie lies over the ocean_

_My Bonnie lies over the sea_

_My Bonnie lies over the ocean_

_Oh, bring my Bonnie back to me_

_._

_Bring back, bring back, Oh bring back:_

_My Bonnie… to me…_

_Bring back, bring back, Oh bring back:_

_My Bonnie back to me_

Her fingers twiddle uselessly as she closes her eyes to evade nervousness. It does the opposite.

_Oh winds blow over the ocean,_

_Oh winds blow over the sea_

_Oh winds blow over the ocean,_

_Oh winds bring my Bonnie to me_

_._

_Bring back, bring back, Oh bring back:_

_My Bonnie… to me…_

_Bring back, bring back, Oh bring back:_

_My Bonnie back to me_

'Why is it so quiet?!' she thinks frantically. 'Am I supposed to be calmed by this or afraid?' Her voice wavers for the next verse before evening out. Some bird of a sort calls oddly into the night, she absently notes.

_Last night as tears stain my pillow,_

_Last night as I lay in bed_

_Last night as tears stain my pillow,_

_I had dreamt my Bonnie was dead_

_._

_Well, my Bonnie sails over the ocean_

_My Bonnie sails over the sea_

_My Bonnie sails over the ocean_

She murmurs the last line, peeking through one eye, risking a glance.

_Now my Bonnie's back with me_

Silence for once seems to torture the girl. No longer does it bring comfort and peace to think. Now her thoughts run wild. Every passing second deems something worse and worse from her: rejection, anger, despair, dis-

"I..I love your voice. It's… beautiful." Nothing to hint her opinions at the _highly suggestive_ song.

Oh. Well that still isn't expected. Marceline risks another glance down and she smiles thoughtfully back up at her in turn. _Oh._ She swallows nervously again and goes back to looking at the stars.

Only when cold starts to deepen does she take the cloths brought in her pack and lays the first down on the sand, pulling another on top over her body. It'll do some good to protect them from the cold for the time being, but he fire does most of the work.

Marceline lies on her side, propped up on one elbow and the battle of gazes begins once again. In the dim moonlight Bonnibel's eyes seem less like the hard ocean storms and more like the color of the deep sea underwater. Softer. Gentler.

'Yeah.' She ponders. 'Sweeter.' Marcy breaks the competition for once, rolling on her back. "G'night." She says quietly but receives no response. A few minutes trickle by.

"Good Night?" she calls again.

Bonnibel leans over her, brows furrowed, seeming to debate something in her head. She just waits under her patiently, partly curious.

"I'm your Bonnie?" Vague question, but expected at one point. An answer to that is almost impossible. She searches for one that doesn't fuck everything up.

As the time drags on she adds, "Am I?" voice rising.

Marceline, as flustered as possible, runs a hand through her hair. She sits up on her forearms behind her and says, "Uh..yes."

Searching eyes bore into hers, trying to find something. What exactly, is what eludes both. So, the girl says more assured, "You are my Bonnie. That's it."

Bonnibel sighs, running her hand to push a lock of black hair behind her ear. "Fuck Marcy…. that's all I've been waiting for", she breathes.

Marceline's gaze shifts down to her mouth, just for a fraction of a second, and then back up. They unconsciously lean in, but only a breath away, Marceline leans back. Then in closer again. Then uncertainty flashes in her thoughts, making her lean back out _again_.

The other rolls her eyes in annoyance at the reactions, gripping her shoulders to prevent anymore leavings and muttering, "For the love of God…" She closes the gap between their lips, listening to the sharp inhale coming from the other girl.

After taking sense of the situation, her arms wrap around her neck, bringing the other close enough kiss the woman. She smiles into her softer-than-previously-thought lips, letting herself become lost in the intoxicatingly sweet scent of the other girl. How she maintains it, she'll never know.

Her hands trace down her back, scathing her nails lightly(thank god she forgot her gloves on back on the ship) over through her shirt before settling on her hips. Bonnie breaks away to take a breath and see her reaction- but is pulled back in before neither are accomplished.

Marceline's head gets dizzy from lack of air. Surprisingly, it's easy to forget how important it is. Time goes on as they both ignore the urge to break away and inhale. It turns into another unspoken challenge in a way, of who can last the longest. The small gasps in-between aren't enough to suffice, but they don't stop. Time becomes blurry and neither can seriously know if it's been three minutes or fifteen.

Alas, its Bonnibel who tears away, practically gasping, face bright red. Marceline gulps in air also, and manages sheepishly, "We went kinda overboard, didn't we?"

She nods in agreement, still breathless. A heartbeat later, she's pulling Marceline back into another, sighing deeply all the while. The tribal woman shifts, pulling back after a moment.

"Uh… shouldn't we.. figure out what… this is?" She motions vaguely. "Not that I don't like kissing you and all, because I do."

Bonnibel's blonde brows scrunch in response, either in confusion or frustration.

"I know that. It's just, after I first felt your lips against mine…" Her gaze drifts down to her mouth multiple times before she mutters, "…I-I can't stand any second of _not_ kissing them anymore."

'Holy hell- she knows what to say.' Marceline shivers, heat rising up her neck. "So….we're…? Can we…?"

"I sure as hell want to. Be.. _together._ " The blunt responses to her awkward questions are only making the woman more the nervous. Bonnibel realizes this and moves closer, intertwining their hands awkwardly at the fingers, unused to the motion.

"Will you be a pirate with me? Whether it be pillaging villages to enemy ships to just…" At the sight of her uncertainty she adds desperately, "…to just staying with me. You could visit your village anytime, but _please_ stay with me." She seems to plead with her eyes. "You're all I need."

"I... could visit home?" A nod is the response. A frantic nod, if I might add. And with that... she knows. It's taken almost two years, going on three, but now, _she knows. _All protests of otherwise out the window , she nods and replies "Okay."

They sit in a relieved silence before she tries to kiss her again, only to have Marceline lean back from it. _AGAIN._

Bonnibel sighs impatiently, hands moving up to grip the lapel of her collar, tugging her forward. "What is it now?"

"Uh.. can I ask what brought this on?" She slowly (lets emphasize the awkwardness of it all) sets her hands on the other's waist. For some reason, it feels like they should be there. It could be the familiar feeling accented from all the nights she's held them to keep the other upright, or just her intuition.

"I've felt like this for awhile."

"Then why now? Why not before?"

She leans even closer-if possible. "Your voice. It was your song too, but to god-" She closes her eyes briefly in a pause, as if relishing the memory and voice seeming to melt the second it leaves her mouth. "_Your voice._"

The answer is short as ever, but fulfilling enough as the longest of speeches. Says so many things in so little words. It's something she's always been talented in.

"Can I kiss you now?" The statement sends flutters down Marceline's spine in the best of ways, curling into a heat in her chest. Soothing the tightness for once in a long time.

She bites her lips and nods, eyes lighting up so much they seems to glow green in the firelight or the night. Which exactly is unsure, yet nevertheless, they seem brighter than anything else ever seen before.

"Yes."

**PART THREE OUT OF THREE**

* * *

**Hehe first verse done! Onto the second; For those who listened to the song, you'll know what its about.  
**

**So with this in mind, this is gonna be a long ride, with multiple different ways of bubbline. Each is basically a different story. Woo!**

**Tell me whatcha think about it so far, yah? :D**


	5. If I was an Outlaw

**Ayy ok for this one I researched for.. dang like _weeks. _Took awhile to connect the backgrounds, take into account the year and problems arising at the time, put the characters in historical positions, blah blah.**

**And if you haven't figured it out yet, it's about Bonnie and Clyde, the notorious criminals/couple, running away from the law in the 1930s. You can do a quick google search on'em if you want, but it's not mandatory or anything (while it would make the story a bit cooler hehe).**

**Instead of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Burrows, its Bonnibel Parker and Marcy Abadeer.**

**********ENJOY YO!(this three shot right here just might be my fav out of them all, just saying)**

* * *

**Marceline**

_If I was an outlaw robbin' a bank  
Would you be my Bonnie, help me get away  
Would you pull the trigger and blow 'em away  
If I was an outlaw..._

Marce pats her pockets as she strolls through the convenience store. Everything from lighters to canned foods litters the shelves. A dim light in the corner flickers, the rest casting the room in an old brown-ish tinge. A bug taps at the glass.

She risks looking up towards the store owner. He's scruffy in this side of country; His face is buried with a slight beard from not shaving and messy dark brown curls to match. He flips through a seemingly thick newspaper intently. Curiosity gets the better of her and she moves from aisle to aisle, getting closer until she pretends to walk by and pick up a packet of chewing gum.

Naked women flash in the visions of pages on the inside, very much unlike the cover on the outside which reads: Political Issues. The sneaky act is humorous to say the least. She chuckles quietly to herself in the confident of the other aisle before continuing her escapade. Another metal dot is placed strategically behind an old bag of cornmeal. Her thoughts, however, lay on the opposite of her illegal goals.

"Hey what're you doin?!" A gruff voice yells out.

She slowly turns, and walks back up to the counter. "Just taking a look 'round."

He squints at her and she motions

_I'm supposed to meet, eh, Finn and Jake tomorrow. I'll have to go talk to Guy tonight about some good booze for a cheap price._

Despite the time being closer to night, 11:09 pm, a young woman walks into the store. Marceline snaps herself out of her thoughts and glances at her. Pretty is a nice word for the woman, as she glides up to the front counter and taps the bell. At her presence he stutters and drops the newspaper along with the pictures behind the counter. He then starts to fumble for his hat and slap it over the moppy hair on his head, shooting what he seems to think is an alluring stare, but is really comes off as a horny dog panting over a fine bitch.

_But…that's no bitch_, she notes to the simile with a grin. _A lady would be a better word for her._

As they begin to interact under Marceline's hidden view, more words are added to the title. _Fine_, comes when she goes in her purse, flipping her wavy golden locks over her shoulder. _Regal_, slides its way in when she notes her posture, back straight but not so much that its rigid, but just enough that shows she's held to a higher status than many. The raven haired girl raises her brows at that, risking her cover by taking of het fedora and pressing it to her chest.

In no time _beautiful_ is right along beside the other words, chosen due her stunning smile she gives, when he trys (and fails miserably) to be flirtatious. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears, mouth slightly open. She takes the bag handed to her by the man and looks daintily over her shoulder, catching the secret gaze.

_A fine, regal, beautiful woman._

Marcy jerks back into the space, blocking the view by the shelves and furiously tries to calm her racing pulse. The woman blinks for a second by the sudden movement, yet ultimately smiles her pearly whites in her direction too.

She smashes her hat back on top of her head with care Wow. Leering really isn't on her list of daily activities. Getting comfortable is a no, for a job like this.

_C'mon! She's just a beautiful gal who happened to walk in here. Get your shit together, Marceline. Remember the plan, remember the plan, remember-_

"Hello."

"AHH!" She turns too quick and stumbles into the row next to her. Her voice deepens considerably, on cue. "Hi, um hello to you too, uh yes." The raven haired woman topples sideways into the canned goods from the unexpected visitor. The blonde just stands politely and giggles when she sprawls across the floor, cans rolling about. Rubbing her head, she glances up from behind the rim of the fedora.

"You need a hand?" She offers, and it's taken. Marceline scrambles to get the rest of the stray debris, lest the creep manager would come over and inspect the situation. Her cover can't be blown, under any circumstance. Safely back on the shelf, she spins around and offers back a cheeky grin.

"Thanks gal."

"Oh its fine, Mr…" The sentence drawls on as she smiles wider and motions it with her hand.

Marceline blinks in surprise before relaxing. At least the disguise worked. "Mr. Burrows. Marshall Lee Burrows." She takes the extended arm lightly, pulling it closer to press her mouth to the back of her hand softly. She glances back up with a mischievous grin and a flush covers the woman's cheeks instantly.

Inwardly, of course, she celebrates animatedly, but keeps her cool demeanor on the outside.

_Ahh hell yess. Aww she blushed, you go Marceline! Got that swagger on point! Man I'm smooth; gotta keep this up._

"So, what brings a lady like you here to this lonely place at this time of night?"

Blondie, what Marceline starts to call her in her mind, doesn't move away her wrist from her grip. It instead relaxes. She clears her throat once before saying in the sweetest, softest voice Marcy's ever heard, "Oh I'm just visiting some good friends about a couple miles from here. It's getting late so I suppose I could just park my car and find a nice place to settle in for the night."

"Well I hope you find your way mighty fine and untroubled." The woman nods curtly, trying to suppress a grin into her hand.

Marceline's eyes flicker towards the clock and a frown makes its way to her features.

_Dammit. I'm late. _

Blondie's eyes follow hers in confusion of the sudden change. "What is it?" She drops the wrist and shoves and hand into her pocket.

"Ahh its nothing doll. You just get to that hotel safe, hear me?" Marceline leans back and slaps the last small beeping dot under the shelf. Her fingernails run over her burgundy vest and black suspenders self consciously; she ends up pulling her slim black jacket over. Unlike may of the men these days, large over coats and jackets, bulky as can be, she's

Blondie stares at her curiously for moment before nodding slowly with a bashful grin. "Same to you. I do hope I meet you some other time…_Marshall Lee_." The name rolls of her tongue smooth and pleasant to the ears. Marceline looks away to hide a bashful grin of her own, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Same to you, Mrs…"

"-Bonnibel Parker. Ms. Parker."

"Oh! Now why doesn't a stunning gal like you already have a ring?" She says slyly, motioning to her hand.

"Ahh wow!" She comments first in a giggle before continuing with, "Just haven't met the right person I suppose."

_Maybe you're meeting them right now._

"Well I'm sure you will soon." Marceline turns on her heels and goes to walk out the store. Sure, idle chitchat and flirting with Blondie is fun, but the guys will be back soon and she can't risk compromising the plan. "It was nice Bonnibel. Real nice." She drops the handle and steps into the dim moonlight, but is stopped when a hand grasps her wrist desperately.

"Wait! Marshall, won't I ever see you again? I mean; I've never met a gentleman quite like you." Bonnibel blurts in a hurry. Marceline pauses.

"Maybe we will. Fate's a funny thing, isn't it?" And with that she leaves to the darkness of the street, and Bonnibel standing in the doorway of the old convenience store.

* * *

"Where the hell where you Abadeer?" He slams his fist on the table and growls. Marceline sighs into the room, dropping her jacket on the couch. The wooden door hangs uselessly open until the other stomps over and slams it closed.

"Calm your ass, Booboo. I just got the drugs in there now." She leans back in her seat, setting her black boots upon the small table.

A woman with a large updo in a beehive and a tight grey dress growls, walking in to smack the back of her head. "You took an extra hour! We thought you were caught." The paler girl's eyebrows rise. Did Wendy just admit to caring about her well being, or was that just her? "If you were and had come ten minutes later then now, we would've been outta here! You almost had me pack up all my dresses!"

_Ahh nope. It was nice, though idiotic to assume with these her, the thought of being cared about. It was at least someone._

She rolls up her sleeves and adjusts in her suspenders. "Hell, I should be getting more pay anyways. I got one right in the kisser; right under the guy's desk, and one in his pocket."

Gregory makes his presence known from the closed doorway. "You're fucking with me aren't ya Abadeer? You've got to be fucking with us."

She smirks and takes out a cig from her pants pocket, so quick with the lighter that it seems to light with the snap of her fingers. After a quick inhale, expelling smoke into the room, she says smugly, "Am I fucking with ya? Don't flatter yourself; maybe Wendy if she shut her mouth once in a while, but other than that, you guys aren't my type. Meaning dicks."

His nose scrunches up at the insult, and Wendy gasps from the armrest, ending in a scowl. Booboo laughs out, "Haha both kinds! Dick Reymond and Dick Jorges from down the street and them in general" and the two share a grin. Though the trio is annoying, unpleasant, and aggravating, Boo is the easiest to share a good joke with in her opinion. However, the guy is a jerk when it comes to things like this. They all have their flaws, to be honest.

_Wendy's a self centered bitch, who never shuts ups. Gregory is too emotional, and yet too aggressive. Booboo is… one of my bestfriend's, but can be an asshole sometimes. But their personalities don't matter when it comes to making money I guess._

She puffs on the cigarette a couple more times as they all continue their share of the conversation.

"Well, now all we gotta do is turn'em in. Easy peachy." Wendy says from her perch.

"Yah and get that cash." Gregory adds. He fixes his lime green jacket, making the girl wince.

_Ugly ass thing. God, I thought Wendy and I had agreed to get rid of that thing!_

The girl in question suddenly pokes her side. "Hey, how'd ya get that close to get it on the guy?"

She shrugs to keep it cool, taking a long drag, but a smile defies her actions. "A real looker waltzed in and swept the creep off his toes. I just happened to be there."

The girl eyes the Marceline's suit and fedora with a critical eye. Wendy is a fashion critic at heart anyways. "How'd the..uh.. disguise work? I spent forever on tailoring that suit, dammit."

She shoots her a lazy response. "Nice. Flirted with the dame a bit and made her blush real cute. Other guy believed it real easy."

The red head squints at her, lips pursed. "So she thinks you're a guy, right?"

She exposes a toothy grin. It'd be a lie to say pride wasn't a factor. "Yah, the whole sch-bang. Marshall Lee was my name. Nice, huh? I'm a gentleman when I can be apparently."

Before she can say something else with an oddly disgusted tone, Booboo gives her a hard slap on the back. "Ah that's where it's at! You go Abadeer."

She feels her smile stay, despite Wendy's efforts to make it leave. Gregory scowls too.

"You..uh..liking females Marceline? I know you joke about it a lot, but now..uh.. I don't know." The other man says slowly, arms crossed.

Smoke curls into the air from the lit end, held between her fingertips. Before she can respond, Booboo says with irritation, "So what if she does? She ain't gotta share shit with ya. You know she's a radical dame; nothing else 'bout it. It shouldn't matter."

Her eyebrows knit for a moment at that, then relax. She leans back into the chair and mutters before taking another drag, "Yah. So fuck off."

Two frowns and two smug smiles. An odd, yet not uncommon pair for the four.

They continue to chat idly for the next hour or so, until Wendy announces, "Okay. Let's go get ourselves up and get the law to give us some free money, yah? I think it's about time that store closes now."

Scattered responses of initial agreement flounder in after. Booboo gets up and stretches, popping his suspenders to keep their tightness and rolling up his striped sleeves to the elbows. Burly knuckles crack, causing Greg to wince.

"Let's do it then. Wendy, you know what to do."

They shuffle outdoors and Marceline takes caution to plop her hat back over her carefully styled hair, thus finishing the hide of her true identity.

No longer Marcy, but now Marshall Lee Burrows.

* * *

Alongside the road the group walks down to the station. Wendy practices her face of worry for the act. It's simple, really. Plant the stolen drugs in there, using the cheap metal pods with magnets on the back. Wait for their 'partners' to come in, waiting for their 'deal', most likely checking the pods for the drugs in await. They go and get the police to check it out; ratting out both parties or the store and the gang, getting a bigass reward in return. Simple.

However, nothing is surefire. None of them predicted that a car would be rattling alongside the road and notice the odd group. Being out at past midnight, still dressed up. It is unnerving to say the least.

So, you could say, as the others panic when the officers walk over, Marceline remains cool. She's a good actor for another reason. Lies are a specialty.

"What are you youngsters doing out here at this time of night, hmm?" The first one says in a southern drawl. Marceline takes the lead.

"Just goin' to a friend's house, sir. Nothing special." Her laid back posture and tone eases some of the tension considerably. Still, Wendy's constant nervous stutters aren't helping the matter.

He squints at her. "She seems jumpy. Y'all been doin' something you shouldn't have?"

Moonlight splays across their faces, exposing each expression with a dramatic essence. Gregory manages, regaining some composure," Yeah! All fine here!" He raises his arms quickly and turns in a circle. "Yep. Nothin' here."

Marceline holds her head and growls under her breath. "Just tell them everything, why don'tcha! Obvious asshole" Booboo keeps a stoic face, but smiles and elbows her when he hears the comment, as if to say, 'everything will be fine.'

The other officer steps up and shrugs, hands on his waist. "Okay then. You all have a nice night." His footsteps signal his leave back to the vehicle. The other eyes them warily, slowly making his way back also. Suddenly, something occurs to her an idea. She elbows Booboo to get his attention and winks. 'I got a plan man.' He nods in assurance. She plants on a face of confusion and turmoil just as easy.

"Wait officer!" the two turn back around. "I dunno if I shoulda be sayin' this or if it's nothing, but something weird happened at a store awhile back."

The calmer one's burly eyebrows rise. "What you mean?"

Boo steps up, replicating her expression. Very believable. "We were about a get sum 'meat and bones' for the gathering, y'know, when I spot these fancy metal thangy's under some shelves. " His voice chops off with an unintelligent accent, causing Marceline to stifle a snicker. "It smelt mighty fierce. Like mah grandmama's herb garden."

That sparks the fire in both their eyes, and the one with the country drawl, growls. "Oh hell I think ya'll done stumbled on a drug deal!"

The other chides quickly, "Sounds just like the Red Choppers to me. They always get sneaky with dealin'. How long ago was it?"

Finally Wendy pipes up, letting the nervousness quake into her voice. Whether its intentional or not is unsure, but luckily it only helps their cause. "Only 'bout an hour ago!" To help their cause even more, Marceline shoves her a bit roughly in the back, and into the arms of one of the cops. She shoots her a frown in response, but continues to play the part.

"Oh officer please help us! We just some poor folk who wanted to just visit some friends! We didn't wanna get caught up in all this mess." The statement doesn't make much sense, as does her sudden pleading, but in the rush of the moment neither seem to really come to such of a conclusion.

The cop holding Wendy tries to look suddenly heroic, holding her close and saying into her ear, "We got all of this. Tommy get that car started and I'll contact the station. We got a national drug bust on our hands."

It's fairly easy to say what happens next. The cops come and storm the gas station and much to Marceline and Booboo's hidden laughs, the store owner is 'having some private time with the photos' behind the counter when it occurs. He's led out with a pair of handcuffs, pants around his ankles, and once out of sight, the pair roar with laughter. The other group of men are caught, in which Marceline steals the cash out of their pockets whilst they're handcuffed and on the floor. They all grime and spit at her, but she grins anyways, counting off the bills and pocketing them innocently before a cop comes along.

Unexpectedly, at the station while waiting for their close to a 100,000 reward, something goes wrong. It's when Marceline goes out for a quick smoke that Gregory joins her, drinking something horribly suspicious-smelling in an milk jug. She eyes him warily, the pungent smell reaching her.

"Is that alcohol?" The clear liquid splashes on the gravel with his swings into the air. His voice is low and giddy. "Nooo, its milk see?" The words slur and he raises the bottle with a sloppy wink. She bristles with anger.

"You idiot; anyone can see it ain't milk! Why're you drinking this shit next to a _police station _for god's sake!" She pushes him hard, dropping the cigarette under the heel of her shoe. "You forget that shit's _illegal _or something!?"

He trips sideways and she groans inward and outwardly. _Greg's never been one to hold his alcohol well anyways._ "Go home! Before you get us all caught!"

"You know what?" he murmurs drunkly. "I've been thinking lately. And you seems just like them crazy bitches who do like women. " He laughs rudely before spitting on the floor. "Sick man. That shit's just sick." Her voice tightens at the words.

"Shut. The hell. Up."

He leans in, breath foggy. "Why don't you shut the hell up, before I go tellin' everybody? Boo included. You know I got leverage now Abadeer, so no more treatin' me like shit. Uh huh, no sir. Respect me unless you want your little secret out." He giggles and takes another swig.

She twitches, face becoming hot. God, she hopes this is just the alcohol talking, but something in the back of her mind tells her it isn't. The next thing she knows Wendy's out there, coming from inside.

"What's going on?" Gregory gets to his feet, voice not as slurred from before, as if the threat instilled a little of sobriety back into him.

"I was just takin a little sip when Marceline got all butt-hurt." He pauses to breathe out, "Annoying bitch" before drinking some more. The phrase is idiotic at least, but the red-head buys it.

_Maybe, _she notes with mixed emotions,_ it doesn't take much for her to go against me in the first place._

"Marceline! We're just about to get paid! Yeesh, loosen up a little. Not's like they're gonna know. It looks just like water!"

She pounds her fist against the wall in frustration and the red-head takes a drink also. "First of all, it's in a fucking milk bottle, and smells nothing like milk or water. You're gonna ruin everything!" She continues to down the substance, so she leaves the two outside to find Boo at the front desk.

He senses her discomfort immediately. Her hands shake from earlier and she breathes to stop it. "What's wrong?"

"Wendy and Greg are drinking! We're gonna get caught!" She whispers fiercely. His eyes darken, and spot the chief walking up with the money.

"I knew something like this would happen. It's their fault; they brought this on themselves." Before she can ask for clarification on the cryptic statement, the officer is on them, with containers filled with cash and a grin.

"Now I know you all are mighty happy for stumbling upon this drug bust, so the money's yours! Just like you guys said earlier about splitting the money up by four, I sent two of my men out to get your buddies."

Booboo's face changes into concern and he speaks quickly. "Speaking of our friends sir, we were noticing them talking with the Red Choppers real friendly earlier, sayin real incriminating stuff."

Marceline catches on in a flash. "Yeah and lately they were going out real late and not tellin us about things! Then they planned for us to come out here and visit our friends all sudden. They yelled at us and made us visit the store today."

Booboo finishes, a hand on her shoulder."Sir, I'm scared to admit it, but I think they planned for this whole thing to happen. Like they were…" He swallows dramatically, pulling at his tie. "Like they were in on the deal with the Red Choppers and planned this whole thing to rat'em out and get the money."

The officer's eyes widen, jaw going a slack at the information. Right on time, the other officers bring in the two drunk people, eyes grim. "We found these two outside drinking moonshine and laughing sir."

In all those couple seconds, everything is critical. Marceline mocks an expression of shock and disappointment and Boo does one of sadness and acceptance. He shakes his head. "I knew something was up. Why Greg and Wendy? Why?"

The drunks slur in confusion but are whisked away at the flick of the chief's hand. "Send 'em to a cell. They're going to jail and being charged for drug embezzlement and alcohol consumption." He faces them, standing tall and handing over the other two cases, four in total. "I know this is hard for you, so here's the rest of everything. I hope ya'll can make it to your other friends to spill the news."

Booboo nods solemnly, tipping his hat. "Oi I will. Thank you sir." Marceline does the same and the two slouch out of the station, but the second they're in the street and a good walk away, they're cheering and throwing money in the air.

* * *

They drive down the highway later that day, money in the backseat. Marceline turns to Booboo. "Why I never thought we'd get rid of those two, always screwin' up everything! Way to go for the last-second-plan, Boo!" He grins, resting his hands behind his head.

"Ehh betrayal was coming to those _judgmental_ retards." At the word she stiffens and he adds, "Why Marcy, you know you were one of my first friends when I moved to Nightos at nine. You were the only one who stuck with me when shit got bad. I don't care if you like women or men or even both for god's sake." His gaze softens. "I'll be with ya through thick and thin, got me? I wasn't gonna let those idiots judge ya anymore."

She smiles, eyes still on the road, but reaches over to jostle his shoulder. Wetness pricks at her eyes but she blinks them down, voice cracking nonetheless. "You big dummy, Boo."She sniffs before laughing out, "Thanks man. Buddies stick together."

He waggles his eyebrows. "You mean _rich ass_ buddies now!" and whoops loudly. She laughs and does the same, the pair going down the highway in cheers.

* * *

**Notes: **

**- Back in that time, homosexuality was uncommon(most were in the closet) and VERY MUCH not accepted by society. Bisexuality was even worse.**

**- The slang they use is very rough, because of the time period, so I hope you guys can keep up with the flow :D**

**- The alcohol prohibition was in full effect in America. This was a period where ALL alcohol was banned, so for the course of the three-shots, alcohol is illegal and a serious crime.**

**********If you got any questions, or opinions, just review or PM me and I'll answer ya. I tried to shove as much as background into this as possible, so alot didn't make the cut, some of it explaining certain little things. Try your best and piece everything together(alot is hinted at) and tell meh what you think! :D**


	6. If I was an Outlaw: part 2

**Lots of references in this. Just felt like it. You gotta catch'em all! (Pokemon reference; BOOM)**

**Just kidding, you don't HAVE to catch them all. They're actually pretty subtle.**

* * *

Marcy takes a quick rap on the wooden door, standing precautiously on the edge of the mat, as if any further and she'd fall. It's a moment before it swings open, to reveal the burly man with a childish grin. He envelopes her in a big hug before she can stop him. "Marcy! Hows it been girl!"

She kicks her feet to signal discomfort and is placed back upon the ground. "I'm fine." She winks and raises a mischievous bag. "I got a bunch of stuff today." He looks at her warily but takes a look inside nonetheless, jerking back in surprise.

"Damn, whiskey, beer, _and _some of MagicMan's stuff? You know how pricy he is." He seems to squeak. She nods and slides inside.

"Yeah. Me and Booboo got a good drug bust, but Wendy and Greg fucked it up so now they're in jail and we're 50,000 bucks richer." The man rubs the back of his neck, closing the door behind her.

"Damn, but hey I'm not complaining. I'm just glad you're here." She moves through the hallway, making her way up the stairs and into the attic.

"You guys still got your tree house latched through the roof?" He grins.

"Always, just like when we were younger! With some more company over the last few months though we insulated it better. Not so cold and less bugs, Lady's orders." He follows her down the dim room, pausing when she unlatches the square hole for the attic. Once the small stairs drop down, they climb in. It's a short wander through the dark until they come unto the door separating the treehouse from the attic.

The other boy is waiting in the floor of the treehouse, sitting in front of a game of chess. His eyes sparkle when they meet the other girl. "Aww Marcy! You're back!"

She lets him run up and hug her, his blonde locks ruffling her forehead. He stares at her nose and addresses this with a, "Oh wow I'm really catching up to ya huh? Don't worry, soon I'll be bigger than Jake!" At that, his 20 year-old brother guffaws immensely, ruffling his hair with a hand.

"Whatever ya say shrimp." He groans and turn back to the game, looking thoughtful. She drops the bag in Jake's hands, squatting down to put him in a friendly headlock.

"Whatcha doin here anyways? Never thought you'd be one to place this type of game." He groans and turns, easily flipping them both over. They quickly begin to scuffle on the floor, trying to pin down the other. Marceline hits him the gut a couple times, and receives a swift kick in return.

Jake laughs out, "Ey princess come see this!"

_Princess? Who the hell is that?_

Her questioned is answered whilst having her head pulled back by her hair, lifting her gaze to the doorway. In it stands Bonnibel, in a soft pink dress, holding a steaming mug in shock. She stops fooling around instantly, twisting her legs and bringing the boy to land on his back hard. With a quick elbow to his sternum, Jake counts out to three before she gets up, dusting herself off.

Her eyes blink in confusion, mouth opening and closing in confusion. Jake seems oblivious to it all. "Hey princess you know the girl I was tellin ya about all the time? Ya this is Marcy!"

This only curses her the more, and she croaks out "W-what?!" His brows rise.

"Uhh have you two met before?"

She blinks a couple times, rubbing her head. "I..I'm not sure."

Marceline sighs, explaining awkwardly, "We met a couple days ago. In a store while I was..uh.. on the job." He nods, mouthing, 'Oh' and climbs up the trunk ladder upstairs. Finn follows slowly after, giving her a wary eye.

They second they're alone, she blurts out, "What do you mean by on the job? You were a man! And now you're …clearly not."

Marceline pulls nervously at her sleeves, rolling up them up to be more comfortable. Her attire at the time isn't as before; she dons just a red dress-shirt, some tight black pants with suspenders and red boots, but nonetheless, it helps only confuse the other woman more.

"I think we should…talk about this. I mean…" She sits on the couch, elbows on her knees. "There's no other way I can say this other than… I was disguised..as a man. Yet..I'm a girl, get me?"

Her brows furrow and she huffs, sitting beside her. "Why…I.. why did you lie to me then?"

"In disguise remember?" It vaguely intrigues her on why Bonnibel doesn't seem disgusted with the fact that they were flirting then and realizing it was a woman, but chooses to ignore it. If she addresses those things, it'll only hurt more.

"So you when… you were talking to me… it was apart of the job?" The reasoning behind the question is unknown to her. Vague indeed.

"Nono, that was all real. My real name is.. Marcy Abadeer." She offers a handshake and a lopsided smile to ease the tension. To both of their relief, she accepts it, hand surprisingly smaller than she anticipated.

"Well, if anything, I still think you're a fine gentleman." She murmurs under her breath, frown still evident.

Marceline's smile morphs into a wide grin, and a chuckle.

By the time the boys come back down, the two have already hit it off, and are chatting it up past the point of awkward mutters. At one point of the night, after an array of catching up stories and how each met Bonnibel, their attic door is opened to reveal a woman of Asian descent, with deep blonde hair. Marceline is the first to hug her.

"Ahh Lady! You're here!"

The taller woman laughs, saying something in Korean before being set down and picked up again in another hug. The process continues until she reaches Bonnibel who smiles when she says something else in Korean before switching back to English. Marceline blinks.

"Bonnibel you know Korean too? I thought only Jake knew it fluently." She nods.

"I also know German, but let's save that for another time. It's not really appreciated... at this time and age." They all nod knowingly.

With the party for friends in full swing, Marcy finally brings out the alcohol. Too much of her surprise, Bonnibel's the only one whose never had a drink. Lady and Jake both take some wine while Finn just goes for straight beer. The entire time, the smaller blonde stands unsure and nervous in the corner.

"Blondie, you cool?"

She wrings her hands, going out on the small balcony to look at the stars. "I've never had it before. It's illegal."

Marceline thinks quickly and grabs a thin bottle of some of Magic Man's fruity drink, handing it to the girl.

"I know that. Look have this for a start. It's some good ass strawberry lemonade, but with a hint of whiskey in it. Just a tab, so it doesn't take over the taste, but ya get a nice buzz goin." She accepts and uncaps the bottle easily, pausing before taking a sip. Marceline holds her breath as she works it over in her mouth before taking another. Then another. And another. She smiles then.

"I can't even taste the alcohol!" She says, taking longer drinks. Opening a beer, Marceline stands beside her, open to talking about anything from time to time.

She has to watch her to make sure she doesn't down the whole thing and get flat out inebriated. Eventually, after many pesters, the woman finally opens up truly about her career.

"So.. you're a criminal?"

She laughs bitterly before continuing, "The law's never been my friend Blondie. But yeah, I am. Should be wanted soon, but they haven't figured out the disguise yet."

She seems to take this in stride, not missing a beat when she asks, "And you like women?"

The entirety of her body freezes, posture as stiff as can be.

"What's it too ya?!" She asks a bit too harshly. Bonnibel blinks, noting how she stepped over a boundary.

"I like you Marceline. You're interesting. I don't know why but.. I do. It's just something on my mind."

The response softens her tone and gaze, not to incriminating. Maybe.. just maybe.. she won't be as judgmental as the rest. Hopefully. Rubbing the back of her neck, she says, "I'm weird; an oddball. Yea.. I think I like women.. but men too. I feel like a freak for it sometimes." Her hands squeeze the bottle in her hand.

Bonnibel shifts closer, pausing to flip the curly blonde locks out of her gaze. "I don't think you're a freak or anything."

"Well everyone else seems to. I can't even _count_ how many friends I've lost over it- that and dressing like _this _on the occasion. " She brings attention to her outfit with a frown. "Don't get me wrong, I can wear a dress. I.. I just want to have the option not to sometimes. Pants are pretty darn comfortable."

Bonnibel frowns slightly, running her hands over her own arms in the breeze. "Oh. Well... If anything, you're the only woman I know that could pull it off anyways." After a moment of hesitance, she loops a finger delicately around a suspender, pulling her closer to her side.

Marceline's brows raise at finally what she registers is something-hm not so friendly- while the other woman just looks off to the side again, as if nothing had happened.

"Did you know your name means 'dedicated to the god of war'?" She murmurs between another sip.

She nervously chugs the rest before setting the bottle down, shoving her hands in her pockets. "No. But it's kinda ironic, since my dad's been a pretty big gang leader. "

"I find it… suiting. Not to be rude or anything." She guffaws suddenly at that.

"Ahh I'm the definition of rude. Nothing big there!" After the snickers subside she doesn't miss a beat. "So Bonnibel, tell me something about yourself. Here I am spilling all my secrets."

"Hm.. Well I love to write poetry." Her gaze softens and so is her smile. She runs a hand through her hair, leaning her back on the high railing to face her.

"That sounds mighty sweet. Anything else important?"

"Oh! I work as a waitress…"

"You probably get all the tips with those looks" She says under her breath and receives a playful shove in return.

"Oh get off it, I do not! It's because of my service. Anyways, I'm only working there to save up."

"Save up for what?"

"I want to become a scientist someday. It fascinates me in ways you wouldn't believe." Her crystal blue eyes seem to sparkle at the prospect.

"Well I think you could. You seem smart enough."

Bonnibel looks up at her with those same eyes, but turns away to hide her smile.

"So" She pushes further, looking up at the stars nonchalantly, "that's about it?"

She nods, then snaps her fingers as if remembering something. "Yes.. oh wait! I'm married."

At the two words, Marceline jumps away from her, as if she was on fire. She even does the mini pat down, as if actual flames were on her clothes. "Holy hell you're _married!?"_

She seems to shrug the whole matter off. "I was… hmm at fifteen. It was an arranged marriage but the man met some other dame and ran off once I said I didn't really love him. That was about at 16."

"So…you…_had sex?_" She says it like the words are illegal as the alcohol they're drinking.

"Oh NO!" Bonnibel luckily seems horrified at the thought. Thank god. "It was strictly as platonic as possible. We never even shared a bed."

She relaxes at the explanation, returning to the position, running her hand through her hair. "Good god, I was really scared for a second there."

"Why?"The question makes her freeze.

_Oh fuck. Just.. get the shit out in the open, yea? It'll be the best way to go about things. Just..get ready for the disgust though._

She readies herself, shutting both eyes tightly. "Because, Miss Bonnibel, I think I might have feelings for you." She peeks open an eye after a moment of silence.

_Bonnibel's still facing the distance, wind blowing her locks behind her in such a way, she looks almost like a angel sent to grace earth. No kidding. Wait- stop swooning you idiot!_

"What would you do…" She begins, blue eyes slowly training over to her. "If… I were to say I might be feeling the same way?"

"I-I dunno. I'd want to hold you or-" She stammers, hands up as if to replicate the notions. "hug you or... _kiss _you. Like kiss you alot."

Bonnibel blinks at her, then laughs, something oh-so sweet and fluffy it makes her heart seems to float all the way into her throat at the sounds. The woman's eyes suddenly become heady, and slightly lidded, making her swallow down the same lump.

_Oi, Hot damn._

Before either can blink, she pulls her closer by her shirt, and lips ghosting over hers in such a way that she stops breathing altogether. A manicured fingernail traces her jaw line, down to her neck. "What about if I said… I wanted to kiss you right now?" the blonde breathes, in a tone that makes her shiver. She looks up innocently through her lashes and whispers through slightly parted red lips. "Could I?"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck how am I in this situation?! Fucking fuck, how is she so hot?! What do I do- I've never been in a situation like this before! I mean I kissed a guy once when I was 15 but that's it, never a girl, a real PRETTY girl especially, what if I do it wrong? Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

"Y-eah. You could." She trips over her words. Her eyes wander down, noting their short height difference, then jerking back up. Looking into her eyes feels almost like a sin itself.

Her eyes stare her down after the reply, completely unreadable. Marceline doesn't even know if she's gonna kiss her, or if it was a tease, or a joke-

Marceline swallows the rising lump in her throat and braces herself as the blonde swallows the air in between. Bonnibel pulls her down, whilst pressing her lips along hers at the same time. Her body reacts before she can tell it to; the next thing she knows, her hands move from stiffly her sides, to on her waist. They.. just appear to feel right there.

They aren't kisses, well in a way they are, but not good enough. They're little periods of time, little promises of something more, each one breaking away after only a second or two, then returning for that same amount. It's gentle, just like Bonnie, polite somehow. They need to be... longer…faster, deeper. Not just teases, no, so much more. So, Marceline initiates just that. By kissing her right on back.

The hands on gripping her red shirt tighten, the lips belonging to said person moving against hers in ways she couldn't begin to imagine. Both sigh and lean in closer, all gaps of air between the two disappearing. In moments they're breathless and grinning from ear to ear. Bonnibel pulls away first to inhale sharply, and Marceline does the same, wiping away some of the saliva connecting.

"You're , uh good at this." She mumbles, small face flushed. Delicate hands move from clutching the front of her shirt, to hanging loosely around her neck by the elbows.

"You're, uh lips are really soft." Marceline replies, just as loud.

…They seem to catch each other's gaze again at the same time, a feat for such a close proximity. Neither breaks it.

"You're taller than I thought. Most girls I ever talk too are shorter. "She laughs, fluffy cloud laughs.

"Well, you're shorter than I thought."

"I don't know what to do now. What.. do we do?" She seems genuinely confused.

Marceline shrugs, moving the other's arms up and down with it. "I don't know either. All I know is that I wanna kiss you again."

She works it over, thinking about it for a moment. "Same here."

"So, uh let's?"

"Yes."

Both lean in again, smiles gracing their faces.

* * *

At one point the blonde, mutters something into pale lips, something unintelligible.

"What?" The other breathes.

It comes again, words making sense. "Should we stop in case… someone comes?"

She growls in protest, shaking her head quickly. "We have time." Bonnibel giggles briefly, one of her hands twirling a lock of black hair.

"Mm hm, okay."

As irony would've predicted, only a few minutes later:

"Ahh woah!" Jake declares suddenly, startling the two. The older woman jumps back as if seeing a bug, several feet from the other. "Did I stumble in on something?"

Marceline turns with a frown. "No."

Lady appears from behind him in the doorway, and muffles a laugh. She slides between him and goes up to wipe off thin trace of lipstick off the side of her lips. "Nothing happened huh?"

Marceline can only guess how much is _directly on her mouth._ She hurriedly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a large smear of red coming off. At least the other woman's make-up is fine, not as bad as expected.

Nevertheless at the comment, Bonnibel flushes and looks to the side. Lady waves the two off after a scandalous look. "So whatever you two are now…. Deal with it." She swivels back inside. "We'll all be downstairs in the house if when you decide to stop making out."

Jake laughs heartily at his girlfriend's snappy comments and winks at them before following. The only thing left seems to be the two shocked women and the wind.

"So.. what are we?" Marceline finally announces to the wind.

"I.. don't know about you, "She begins slowly. "But I've never felt so… comfortable before." Bonnibel gradually starts to ramble, words coming out faster and faster." I mean, it's odd and unnerving to say the least, and I feel this horrible anxiety that I'm going to do or say something wrong, yet I still want to be near you and-"

"Relax Bonnie." The girl does as she says at the nickname, taking a deep breath. The n she finishes.

"I feel alive. I don't know how else to put it."

She laughs, rubbing the back of her neck. "I get what you're saying and all but mine's not really so complicated." Her gaze sweeps to her hands and she tries to depict how she feels with stressed movements.

"Whenever I see your smile or laugh or you at all, my heart beats harder. And.. hell I know this sounds sappy, but I'm starting to think… it beats for you or something. Like normally I don't feel it much and my pulse is really low but.. I. I just feel it really hard when I'm around you."

Bonnibel wraps her arms around her neck again, a position she determines she likes quite well. "Well _I_ wanna make your heart beat." She fingers her shirt collar. "I love it when it beats for me. "

She pauses before continuing, "But it doesn't matter. I'm.. I'm bad news Bonnibel. You don't wanna mess with me; it's not gonna end well I guarantee it. The law's gonna catch up to me someday, I know it, and the only thing is, it matters if you're by my side or not. It scares me both ways."

"The thing is, it doesn't matter what you think. I'm already going to be there, I knew it the second you kissed me. That's something you can't change back." She presses their foreheads together, staring into green eyes. "Looks like I'm stuck with you, but I can't imagine not being that way. Just the thought of not seeing your eyes again makes my chest tighten; I don't know exactly why, but I want to be with you, to know you so well, its better then you know yourself."

A slow grin she's never had before grows on her cheeks; it's the kind that she just can't seem to push down, no matter how hard she tries. Her hands reach up to hold her face. "Well, then I don't want to. Imma make sure that you feel _alive_. How does that sound?"

Bonnibel replicates it, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah." She leans in for another quick kiss and moves to wrap an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go see the guys, yeah."

Bonnie follows, ducking back inside. "It's hard to believe I fell in… " She pauses. "In.. growing attached someone so quick." She looks down. "I thought it'd take something big, like someone saving my life or something."

"Meeting you was something big."

"Sap."

She laughs and pockets the other hand. "Only around you."

* * *

Once downstairs and in the midst of the rest, the atmosphere becomes untimely stressful. Mostly due, to Booboo storming in, uneventful to add.

She jumps up from her chair, drink almost spilling over. "Booboo?" The man looks frantic.

"Marce! I just got word from LSP and she said she it heard from Melissa, who heard something from Joe, who overheard it from Gary-"

"Get out with it man!"

"She heard that the police are gonna be in town in a couple days! They're looking for Marshall but what if they find out the disguise?!"

Jake crosses his arms. "We're not gonna let that happen!"

Finn joins him quickly, stumbling from his position. "Yeah, I mean we just got you back Marcy! It's almost been a year. I wanna keep it like old times again."

She rubs her temples. "I-I. I can't get you guys caught up in this. We gotta leave town."

Now it's Lady's turn to interject. "You listen to me here and now Abadeer." Her eyes squint. "I didn't get excited for one of my close friends to run off because the police are on her tail. The Marceline _I know_ would fight it off, wait it out."

Marceline looks near panicking by now. "That's because I have something new to worry about; you guys! " Her eyes shift the slightest to Bonnibel, but only for a second. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me. I..I"

"You, you!" Jake shakes her shoulders, "All you're talking about is you! Damn Marce consider this is _our_ decision for a second. If you're skipping town, so are we."

"Yeah, Ooo's been getting boring anyway. I need some action." The younger blonde quips. He cracks his knuckles.

"But, but… Money…" She says desperately. Booboo at least seems as wary as she does.

"Don't you guys have a whole alotta dough from that last job?"

"Y-yeah but-"

Lady grins. "Then we're fine on money."

Booboo frowns slightly. "Ay ay. We're not gonna have some dead weights on our side, holding us down. It ain't gon' be pretty with us, you gotta get that."

Jake's up and blurting, "Lady has crazy connections with this fucking huge gang in Japan-" until he's muffled by his girlfriend's hand.. Booboo raises his brows.

"Gang? What's the name?"

She crosses her arms, looking particularly darker than usual. An accent tinges out at the words. "Gokudō, or also known better as the Yakuza. Basically Japanese version of your 'mobsters' ."

"Really?"

"Al Capone ha nothing on them." is all she offers. That captures the man's attention.

"Connections? Spill."

Her eyes roll but she complies, flicking her boyfriend in the ear whilst doing so. "I came here to get away from that. My family is embedded in it, but my father tried his hardest after the world war to get away from it all. We moved out of Japan to Korea, and then I left them all for America." She rubs her temples. "My grandfather was deeply in it, being one of the top bosses of his time, and my uncle's are too."

"Oh wow."

Finn jumps up, aggressively puffing out his chest. "And I'm just willing to kick some ass man!"

He looks between the three, shrugging dismissively at the woman. "Sorry Marce but with those strong guys and her connections, I'm game for them coming along." His eyes suddenly turn to the other woman, whom everyone had forgotten in the corner. "What about you Blondie? You seem just like the lightweight type, high management."

Marceline gulps as Bonnibel looks up from her plate, dropping the fork politely and wiping her mouth before speaking. "I suppose the reason you two are in this mess of being caught is because you're lazy. If I was in charge of this, you wouldn't be getting caught every five minutes and actually might have some time to relax for more than a couple hours."

Everyone's eyes jerk to Booboo. His eye twitches. "Lazy? _Excuse me?!_" he scoffs, brows furrowing. Marceline spends her main worry on the man growing a disliking towards her. Hopefully not.

All eyes jerk back to Bonnibel, who sips her drink, taking her time before saying with a smile, "Oh Yes, it's fine. I _excuse you_, for your obliviousness by giving you the offer of my help."

"OOOH!" Lady, Jake and Finn say dramatically.

"She told you!" Jake chuckles, high fiving Finn.

The man grunts, before a smile twitches at the corner of his lips. Just a fraction of a second.

"You have some hidden attitude girl. I like it, but keep that tongue in check." He gives one of his signature winks. "I guess I'd be even more stupid to say no, wouldn't I?"

They all turn to Marceline in anticipation, after a brief celebration. "So…?" Finn asks with a hopeful grin.

She sighs, running a hand through her hair and nodding. "Fine, fine. But we gotta leave town by midnight in two days. You guys cool with that?"

Jake and Lady share a look, conversing with their eyes alone, before simultaneously saying, "Yeah we'll work it out." She claps in finality, standing up to go with Booboo.

"Okay, we'll come here at 11pm. Be ready." Once out by the car, she remembers the blonde. "One sec Boo, I gotta go see about Bonnibel."

She stands outside by the door, staring at her expectantly. Marcy walks back up, leaning on the wall. "…Can you come too?"

"Only two days? You know how early that is right?"

A sigh. "I-I… If you can't I understand." She tries to hide her sudden melancholy but fails. "I'm so sorry. This whole thing-"

She's interrupted by a laugh. Bonnibel moves to pull her down for a quick, chaste kiss to the cheek. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Won't they miss all that extra money you bring in at that diner? What is it; Monroe's diner, am I right?"

She says as an afterthought, "Albert might be disappointed from my leave, but he probably won't be too sad since him and his wife just adopted a little four year old girl. She's a redhead, but for some reason I'd think she could pull off blonde. Anyways, I wouldn't be surprised if she took my place while she grows up."

Her hands fine their way to her hips, the other's around their neck like before. It appears to be a normal and frequent position for the two. "Oh a Red/Blonde to replace my Blondie eh? What's her name?"

"Marilyn. Marilyn Monroe. I think they'll be just fine. She's real pretty."

"Yep."

Bonnibel presses her lips against her cheek, before breaking away. Marceline moves to go, but looks back with one last bit of hesitance."See you later?"

"See me later."

She runs back to the car; it rumbles out of the driveway, and down the street in the night. It's mainly silent until the man elbows her in the side and snickers, "So you got real _friendly _with Blondie really quick, huh?" Instead of smacking him like she should, something in her mood makes her nod.

"She kissed me man! God that gal…" Her eyes wander in the distance. "I think I might be in... you know. It's just..."

"I get it Marcy. It's kinda hard to say it. The L-word, right?"

"Yeah." A sheepish grin tickles her lips.

He shakes her shoulders, whooping all the while. "Fuck yeah! It's about damn time."

"Haha yeah." She absently brushes her fingers over her cheek, over the kiss. "About damn time."

**END OF PART TWO OF FOUR**

* * *

**Gawd I just piled on the references in this thing. You catch'em all?**

**The "Pulses" by Karmin reference? (just a song I recently liked due to the chorus)**

**The Yakuza reference?(Apparently they were pretty active at the time)**

**Marilyn Monroe reference? (She was adopted and originally a red-head so I said "fuck it" and put her in there just cause I can; makes it seem cooler if Bonnie knew Marilyn doesn't it ;)**

**Review to show meh yout thoughts guys :D**


	7. If I was an Outlaw: part 3

**Ok ok, these last couple weeks have been hectic. Some butt stole mah laptop, so I was stuck on mobile until I got a new one. Many MANY apologies for not finding one sooner. Just bought it tonight, and immediately jumped on here. **

**Oh and remember how I said this was gonna be three parts? Yeah well, one late night endeavor, three cups of lemonade and unhealthy amounts of pizza proved that wrong. It's now FOUR PARTS just cause.**

**There's a brief exert from Rather Be by Clean Bandit with slightly altered lyrics too.**

**So again, really, really sorry mah peeps. Like lots.**

**Enjoys.**

* * *

A fan spins lazy circles in the bank. Around and around, the tellers do their job with the couple of customers that come in here and there.

It's an easy day.

However, all things easy, eventually turn difficult.

Marcy walks in, hands in her pockets, chin up high. Her outfit looks mighty fine today, black dress shirt tucking into black slacks with freshly shined black leather boots.

Crisp and reeking of wealth. All a part of the act anyways.

The first teller is a man with a mustache so thick he could comb it. His brown eyes linger on her form drolly. "How may I help you."

She frowns at the tone, widening her stance a bit. "Excuse me?" With an afterthought, she tilts her fedora upon her head.

He glances up over her once, then raises his brows considerably. "Oh- I mean," A grin lights up his face now. "Is there anything you need, sir? I'll gladly be of service." He pulls at his necktie, clearing his throat.

In the corner of her eye, she notes Jake and Lady walk in as planned, drifting over a bit to the corner to speak with another man at the desk.

Jake winks at her, as if to say how everything's on plan. Marceline sighs and addresses the teller.

"I'd like to speak with the manager about a…" She gives a half-smile. "Little loan mishap." He quickly steps off, noting her important tone.

Perfect. The other stray customers seem to finish their business one by one, the majority leaving gradually. She glances at her silver pocket watch. Once she gives the signal, they have exactly ten minutes to get outta town.

Ten minutes.

A heavy-set man in a tight suit steps out. She takes a hint of pleasure at being eye level with him, making this all the more easier. He gives a brief handshake.

"Ahh now, what does the problem seem to be Mr…"

She finishes his statement, deepening her voice just enough. "Mr. Abadeer."

"Well then, Mr. Abadeer. Would you mind telling me?"

She leans up against the counter, jaw locked. Her right hand sneaks innocently into her pocket.

"I've been planning on taking out such a hard loan, but uh..." She looks up from examining her knuckles. "There's been some rumors goin' 'round that you're going downhill."

He stiffens and jumps up from his seat, palms on the wood. "Where! Where did you hear that from?!" His tone gives away it all. With him on the defensive edge, she makes her move.

She motions him closer and he does just that. "Was it Hines? That no-good man's been neck to neck with my bank since he opened his!"

She just shakes her head and motions him closer. A breath apart, her face is replaced with cold steel against his temple.

Simultaneously, a shot blasts the air from the other side of the bank. Jake grins, smoking muzzle facing the ceiling's new spotlight.

And the countdown begins.

Screams go up, and the man gasps in shock. She forces him to his feet and over to the counter. Her intimidating yells echo through the building.

"Give me the fucking money and no one has to get hurt! Don't cooperate; you'll be without a head." The words send a shiver through the air as the other two force everyone on the ground.

The fan makes another rotation as the man hurries to the vault. She chants down random numbers for the heck of it, each lowering count making his hands shake.

"Here! Here's the money!" She shoves the cash carefully into a black bag, being sure to get higher stacks of smaller bills. Once she's satisfied, he's kicked inside and the door pushed closed.

She runs back through the intricate maze of hallways, heart pounding with every step. Back in the lobby, she hops over the counter and shouts, "Go, go go!"

Jake and Lady bolt for the car outside, Finn ready in the driver seat. Marcy flies over the sidewalk, jumping into the backseat with Bonnibel. Her position takes the driver side window and the blonde, the middle. Lady slides in between them and Jake on the passenger side.

Bubba pops up from the trunk, eyes alight. "We good?"

"Yeah, hit that gas Finn!"

In the blink of an eye, the running engine soars down the street.

"How much time?!" The blonde boy shouts from over the rushing wind. They weave in and out of traffic at a deadly pace.

"We got five minutes, can you handle that?" Bonnibel replies. Her fingers intertwine with the older girl's beside her, just for the sake of it. A thumping pulse in the palm under hers is a greeting all on its own. Marceline lets her other arm loosely out the window.

He laughs, jerking the wheel so sharp they lift a tire off the ground for a second."I got this princess."

The accounted for sound of sirens wails behind them. Jake gives Marcy a look from the front. "You think they'll shoot?"

"Nah, we're in too a crowded area; too many casualties. They wouldn't risk killing that many people."

The sound of a bullet kissing her skin plays into her ears first, the stinging pain coming afterwards.

"GODDAMMIT!" She curses, jerking the limb back inside. More bullets whiz by, most ricocheting of the car. Booboo flattens in the trunk bed, sending mutters into the wind. He readies a heavy rifle.

"Fuck! I thought you they said they wouldn't shoot!" Jake groans.

She starts to hug her arm close, the thinks second when another bullet chips the paint by her elbow. Lady curses in either Korean, Japanese, or maybe even both, then tosses her a menacing looking gun. It's nothing less than fierce and sharp with a thin muzzle, and a sharp blade on the end for close combat.

She sends a half-second of thanks to the Japanese gangsters across the world. The Yakuza know what they're doing.

"Well I'm sorry the police don't seem to give shit about that anymore! They seem real desperate for us now." She loads it skillfully.

A couple bullets hail into the cab of the car, puncturing holes and cracking the glass of the back window. Bonnibel yanks the black-haired woman down in a duck, hair on the back of their necks standing up.

Finn curses and does another crude swerve to get the cars off their tail. Bonnibel turns and plants a swift kick to the glass, effectively shattering the rest. Boo dodges the destruction and props the weapon on the ledge, firing heavy bullets into anybody in the pursuit. He counts aloud: 1, 2, 3 and.. hell- there's four police cars.

Bonnibel pops up in the middle, holding a heavy and large gun, foreign enough that the name's not even in English. It roughly translates to 'Pure Murder' and frankly, gives Marceline the creeps. Her own weapon looks like a water gun in a humorous, yet true comparison. Currently the blonde totes it's the newest handbag.

Bonnibel really does have a badass side, crazy enough Marcy can't match. And she loves it.

"Target Practice?" Marceline jokes, dodging another set of gunfire. Lady cocks her neck to the side, giving a short laugh. Bonnibel hides a smile and pushes her to focus.

"Now is not the time for jokes Marcy; shoot!"

At the command, Jake swivels to looks out his window, firing rapidly at the first head he sees. The man moves to shout at the sudden appearance, but is too slow to escape. His body hangs out the window limp as a reminder to the rest. Boo lets another round loose into the air, the smoke from his gun blinding the officer's aim.

Marcy yells a brief thanks, before shooting another. Bonnibel grits her teeth and shoots up on the tires of the cars. Once most of the rubber is littered with bullets, their speed slows considerably. Yet when the chase continues, she moves to go breaking the windshields.

Lady's strategy is more steady and reliable, spotting someone first of all, then shooting to kill, then dodging other bullets. Reload, rinse and repeat.

Marceline takes aim down the sight of her gun, taking quick, silent shots, too precise to challenge.

Nevertheless, all of the group work together like a well-oiled machine, working up each other's strengths and making up for the weaknesses.

Once the windshield of the last car is shattered, Bonnibel ducks down. As an unspoken agreement between the two, Lady and Marcy automatically go for the men inside; Marcy gets the drivers, Lady gets those in the passenger side.

Only two cars drop out the fight, both swerving into the nearest brick wall. Smoke pummels out their engines, but not a souls appears to leave the cars or live inside it. Bonnie scoots to peek her head up from her position on the floor.

"Finn!"

"Y-yeah princess?" He chokes out, straining on keeping them moving and alive, whilst keeping up a conversation.

Booboo suddenly shouts, "We can't get'em! Their gunfire is too bright and blinds any clear shots!"

Bonnibel tugs on the boy's sleeve with determination. "Slow the car down, like right now!"

"WHY!? We'll get caught." He argues, clearly confused. She frowns.

"Do it!"

With the grit of his teeth, the boy stops the speed, the police cars racing by on both sides. In that instant, Marcy shoots the guys on the right as they pass, Lady and Jake the same with the left. Unsuspecting from the attack on the sides, both drivers get shot quickly, and their cars crash in different directions.

Finn speeds up, taking a back street until they reach the high country side. They're on the edge for another half-hour, until they're far enough to relax. No sign of pursuit.

"What's the time?"Finn asks, blood dripping down a scrape on his cheek. Marcy leans up and wipes it off with her thumb.

"Twelve minutes."

He frowns playfully. "Aww man! I almost beat my score!"

Jake laughs and gives him a brief rub on the head. "Whatever man; we got the dough though, so we're fine."

Lady pockets the empty guns from the others in her bag in the backseat. "How much this time?"

"'Bout a couple hundred. Just enough." All the money from the bust by Boo and Marcy was taken when they were caught in an ambush by the police, the rush to escape leaving most the money. Now they get by on heists and robbery's, simple tasks for the group of six. With the cheers and whoops of her gang mates, she leans back with her arms behind her head—then winces.

Bonnibel slides over in her seat, leaning over immediately. "What is it?" Her eyes hold that flicker Marceline sees every time they do anything really with a shoot-off. That brief fear of the worst. It makes her chest tighten.

She raises her forearm to look at it in the light. A trail about a millimeter deep runs from her elbow to mid forearm. Slightly more than a scrape, not enough to be considered a gash. Blood trickles out like a bubbling river, streaking her entire arm. "From when they nicked me at first. Goddam cops."

Boo frowns and hands Lady his gun. "Damn Marceline, you gotta be more careful."

Delicate fingers run over the mark, worry etched into the blonde's soft features. After minutes of complete silence, Bonnibel mutters, "Finn, what's the nearest stop?"

He scratches his chin with one hand momentarily. "In about ten miles I think. Small little rest stop. Why, you want us to stop there?"

"Yeah, to help Marcy's arm."

"Gotcha."

Marcy wraps an arm around Bonnibel's ]shoulders as the girl positions herself more into her lap, head rested on her chest. She traces patterns on her clothed abdomen, marveling at the way it shudders once in awhile.

After the brief break, they buy a first aid kit and patch up the wound efficient enough to ward off infection. She still can't help but pick at the stitches through, back on the road.

* * *

It's an hour or two before sundown, and _finally_ they can stop. Pulling a mile or two off road and slightly in the forest deems the best choice.

Marcy plops herself ontop of the truck with Booboo, while the rest take a sat in the roomy trunk. She stares down the sun until her eyes burn and Jake is handing her a sandwich from Lady's pack.

Boo nudges her. "Won't be long til we're having lobster, baby!" Finn gives a loud whoop in affirmation. Jake giggles.

"These samiches still are damn good though, lobster or not." They all give a cheer on that one and Lady flusters up from the compliments.

At one point, Marceline peers over to find her girlfriend scribbling quickly in a small book. A smile finds her lips as she glances over the neat cursive."You weren't kiddin about poetry, huh?"

Bonnie looks up. "It's helps me think and stay calm." Then she pauses. "Don't you have something to keep you calm Marcy? Everyone does."

Marceline scratches at her stitches absently and is given a swift smack on the hand. "Goddammit Boo, why you gotta be so heavy handed!? Ow... Anyways, I guess I just sing songs y'know. I've been writing one with Lady for bout a week now."

"Wait- You sing?"

Booboo interrupts with a loud guffaw. "Does she sing? God you haven't heard her songs before?!"

Bonnibel sinks more into the seat as everyone spares her an incredulous glance. "I heard her hum a couple times... but nothing really special."

Jake turns from the passenger side, grinning wide. "Wait- you wrote a song with Lady? When?"_  
_

She says in a mouthful of bread, "When we'd go out on walks around mid-day."

"Oooh." His eyes go wide. "Let's hear it!"

Finn shouts another affirmation, following Bonnibel and Boo. Marcy shrugs.

Lady on the other hand, flusters up again. Today just isn't her day. "Ack what? But.. uh... it's not done!"

Marceline shrugs again and gets the tattered notebook from her pack. A light flush runs over her nose and crawls down to her cheeks, coming from nowhere. "It's... fine. I should be the nervous one anyway."

"You sure?"

The flush overtakes both cheeks on instant at that. "Yes! Just... yeesh Lady! I'm fine." The Asian woman smiles and holds up her hands in defense.

"Okay, just making sure."

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts, then taps out a simple beat on the hood with her knuckles. Breath shaky, Marceline exhales.

Then she sings.

_We're a thousand miles from cover,_

_We searched for land n' sea_

_But as long as you are with me..._

Bonnibel gives a small smile, making her heart skip beat or two.

_There's no place I'd rather be!_

_I would wait forever, e__xalted in the scene!_

_As long as I am with you, my heart continues to beat!_

Finn starts to hum along and gives a thumbs up. Booboo taps out the same beat and she nudges him with a grin.

_With every step we take, Kyoto to The Bay_

_Strolling so casually!_

_We're different and the same, get you another name,_

_Switch up the memories!_

_If you gave me a chance, I would take it!_

_It's a shot in the dark, but I'll make it!_

_Know in all your heart that, you can't shake me_

_Cause when I am with you,_

Boo and her stop the beat altogether and her voice becomes slower.

_There's no place I'd rather be._

Finn gives over-enthusiastic claps and cheers, and Marceline gives him a fierce head rub.

"Aww dude quit it!" He pouts and she laughs. Jake winks.

"You guys are good together, really sweet song."

Boo shares a wink with Jake. "I think the real opinion here should go to Bonnibel, since the songs about _her _anyways."

They all turn to the girl dramatically and she bites her lip. "I've never been.. um.. sung to before, so I don't really know what to say."

Marceline hops down next to her. "It's cool doll, I just hope you liked it is al-" The blonde cuts her off with a kiss, long enough to leave her smiling like a goofball.

"Well that's her answer." Lady comments and swings her legs out the side of the truck. Jake hurries up from his spot and into the dirt below, before turning to help her down. He receives a bashful grin and peck on the cheek.

"You're too sweet."

Finn goes to do the same with Bonnie, who gladly accepts. After brief hesitation, Marceline accepts his hand also.

Boo jokes from the trunk bed, "Woo Marcy! Look at you being all lady-like." She leans over the side of the trunk and smacks him.

"I'm still a lady you butt! Just wait till you see me in a dress. Your jaw's gonna hit the floor." She opens the door to the inside and Bonnibel adds "I bet it'll be beautiful too, the dress I mean. With ruffles on the shoulders, delicate and thin on the sides. It'll be all white and-"

"And with a veil, a bouquet of flowers and matching rings?" Boo interrupts wryly. "Sound's like a wedding dress to me, Bonnibel"

Her face turns red from cheeks to the tips of her ears and Marceline has to laugh at that one. They high-five through the window in the car. "Good one man!"

Bonnie counters, smiling yet embarrassed. "Girls can't marry each other Boo! Y-you know that!"

"I know I know, but what if they could?"

She throws the bags in the front seat. "Even then.. you don't know if we'd be together for that. She might find someone else."

Finn props his head on top of Boo's. "Pssh, yeah right."

She taps Marceline's shoulder, flustered as ever. "Marcy, what do you think you're future wife or.. uh.. husband is doing right now?"

Marceline hands the boys in the trunk some blankets., saying with up-most nonchalance, "I dunno, what are you doing?"

"Oh I'm putting-... wait."

Bonnibel stops and stares at her.

One minute.

Finn blinks.

Two minutes.

Then she gets it.

Booboo and Marceline share another high-five, Finn joining in the mix. "OH! She's on a roll tonight!"

The blonde waves them off and briskly leaves to talk to Lady, but smiles nonetheless.

The sky begins to turn a purple, the sounds of grasshoppers coming alive and apparent. Lady and Jake take the tent and set it up a couple paces away. Finn and Boo call the roomy trunk, to stare up at the stars with an extra dose of blankets for the chill. However, they spend the first half hour joking around other than doing any resting.

So.. that leaves Bonnie and Marcy with the car. Oi.

It's not at cramped to be expected, with the seats being wide in the back. Clearly enough for two bodies to sleep on. Yet that's not why they're nervous.

It's the tension that comes with it.

They've been a couple for almost a year now, denying the time Marcy got put in jail for two months and Bonnie for one; both escaped. Still, every time they've been alone, it sees too thick to handle. It reminds them of how little time they might have left, yet nervousness plagues their thoughts enough to overcome the thought.

But it's still there.

Marceline pushes her shaky thoughts out the back of her mind and sets down a blanket. After a moment, Bonnibel finishes talking with Lady and joins her under the covers. Her eyes stare beside hers, wide in the still night. Boo shifts over in the trunk.

Marceline swallows as that bubbly feeling rises up in her stomach. Her eyes have that heady look they get when they're even partially alone; blue irises glossing over like polished pebbles. Their hands slowly interlock under the covers.

"Um.. you liked my song.. right?"

"..I'd like any song you sing Marcy. Your voice is beautiful."

She clams up after that. It's easy to forget that like the flick of a switch, Bonnibel can know any and everything to say. Can stop being a blushing mess and actually initiate things.

It's one of those occasions.

She doesn't know if it was the song, or the jokes from earlier that flick the girls switch, but when a hand reaches up to pull her closer, she stops analyzing the situation.

Their lips meet for a predestined time, for when the blonde makes the quietest of sighs and Finn moves around in the trunk, they stop out of caution. Both slink back into the seat in defeat. Marceline lays back to look out the broken window, up at the stars. Bonnibel traces patterns on her chest until her breath evens. It's then does the older girl let herself drift off also.

In fact, for most of the night, both are calmly asleep.

For once.

* * *

**MEANWHILE…**

A man in a dark suit crosses his fists upon the table. The metal door parallel to him creaks open.

The woman shuffles in, iron shackles clicking together. He allows the echo to die down before speaking.

"Wendy Gorges." She scowls at his rasping voice, almost as if his vocal chords were rubbed with sandpaper.

"Yea that's me."

"From your file it says you've been here, almost a year in a month or two. That's a long time."

No comment except silence. His frustration ticks.

"How is your stay here?" he says, searching for a response.

She glares at him. Bingo; that's where he needs to prod at for a reaction. Something he believes resembles a smile cracks his chapped lips. "Cat got your tongue? Or have the sight of men repulsed you enough that you won't say a word? I suppose its from dropping the soap too often."

And that's the trigger. Wendy's palms slam unto the metal, chair screeching back obnoxiously. "Motherfucker! Screw you!" Her eyes grow wide in a flurry of emotions, anger most prominent. "You don't know what I have to go through; every girl's_ fucking_ gay in here! It's damn sick and unnatural!"

A dry chuckle escapes his throat. "Ooh struck a nerve, didn't I?"

"Look whose talkin; you're a damn walking skeleton for god's sakes!"

The man's bony fingers clench for the moment, and then pause to tap unto a manila folder. "No need for insults Ms. Gorges. I've already spoken to your past partner, Georgy."

"What about 'im?" Interest peaked, she retakes her seat.

"He's been… in a tragic accident. You're my last source I'm afraid."

"Wait; he dead?"

The man chuckles again, the sound being his favorite to make; it's a mixture of possible amusement or pity. Every time it sends a creep up her spine. "Oh well, yes. Bad way to go too: beaten and hanged from the second floor of the prison. I suppose he won't be much of use to me then."

Wendy stiffens, fear flashing in her eyes. He opens the folder, sliding out a set of papers. "Nevertheless, I've brought you hear to ask a few questions about you're older partners. The ones still alive."

Betrayal comes out in a snarl. "Why should I help ya? You insult me, threaten me, and for what?! As far as I know, I'm your only help."

The dull color in green eyes burn to life. "Oh, but I feel we can reach a consensus here. You see, you have knowledge I'd like and I have your ticket to freedom."

Her mouth goes agape. "So if I help ya… I get outta here. No more time."

"Correct. Just don't forget to tag on a bit of revenge on your part. Don't feel judged Ms. Gorges, for I am a lover of that sweet taste." He examines the dirt under his nails. "Why, don't you know they're the leaders of a wanted gang now?"

She scoots forward, looking side to side. "Serious? How wanted?"

His features crinkle in delight, as if spilling the beans to the woman is the funniest punch line imaginable. "Millions going on billions. They killed more people than you have time, which as I recall with your past multiple charges was fifty years. Everything is a luxury to them."

She whistles, but it quickly takes a dark turn. Her fist hits the table and he starts to slide out Marceline's and Booboo's picture from the folder. "Now… I'd like to know more about Marshall Lee Burrows and Broderick 'Booboo' Williams."

"The first thing you gotta learn," she starts with a bitter smile, "Is that you're team is a bunch of idiots. The entire government is really."

"Insult me again Ms. Gorges and be ready to-"

She waves him off, leaning back by two legs of the chair. "All I'm saying is… is that you're looking for the wrong thing. It's not Marshall Lee, but Marceline. _He_ is a _she_."

His eyes widen, then twinkle. "Aha! Interesting indeed... better not let this get out to the public and just keep her viewed as a man then. Easier on their simple minds, eh?" His pen works fiercely upon a stray notebook, but her hand comes across the table to stop it.

"Before I tell you anything more, I need a proper shake for this deal of yours. I ain't getting' jipped by nobody."

"Makes sense. So do we have a deal?"

He clears his throat and takes her hand in a proper shake.

His hand clenches around hers, holding much unexpected force for such a frail looking thing. She winces. It's enough to frighten her inwardly. Something about the whole situation gives her the feeling similar to what she'd relate to making a deal with the devil. Flickering lights, old, dusty room with a mysteriously dark man; it's anything but reassuring.

She swallows and starts, "Yes. We have a deal, Mr…"

Yet he only chuckles, as if reading her thoughts and _not_ denying them. Challenging them to be proven otherwise. A crazed glint appears in his eyes, glowing a bright green under shadowy sockets.

"_Mr. Lich._"

**END OF PART THREE OF FOUR**


	8. If I was an Outlaw: part 4

**This particular AU will always have a special place in my heart compared to the others. Don't know why, but it just will. Anyways, cheers for this end of number two and onto the next AU. :D**

* * *

"Agh damn!" She tumbles in the dirt as the officer above her pummels his fists at her face. She jerks left and right, avoiding as many blows as she can; it totals to very little. Bruises litter cheeks steadily and her hopes of avoiding a black eye are diminishing quickly.

Shots fire in the distance as Jake, Finn and Lady hold off the car. However, the shots flying by aren't theirs. Booboo got lost in the midst up brawling earlier. Where Bonnibel is, she doesn't know.

And that's enough to second her into more of a panic.

"Die!" He growls, spittle landing on her face.

They were only driving down the highway, returning from yet another easy jewelry store heist when their tires gave out. Nails upon the road, thousands.

Instantly, groups and groups of police emerged from behind trees and holes, shooting blindly in the fray. It was an ambush to dote.

The man currently above her receives a swift head butt and falls to the side, eyes rolling like marbles. With his own gun she kills him, only to be tackled by another. The man jams a knee to her crotch, but panics when she doesn't react with a yell. A bullet is lodged in his head before he can figure out why.

Jake finishes slitting the throat of another officer going for Lady, and turns to Marceline. Blood stains his orange shirt crudely. "Where's Bonnibel!?"

They just keep on coming, more running from a large farmhouse in the distance.

_Damn that's where they're all located!_

"Shit, guys! Duck!" They all drop to the floor as more cars pull up from said direction, guns ablazin. The shots disrupt the dust around them, enough to bring them all to alarm. Old blood in the dirt flies up from the impacts, splattering them some more.

"We been trapped." Finn says with a scowl, thumping his fist against the dirt in frustration.  
Marceline pauses to peek around, but the only way out is blocked, and their car is totaled.

Hopelessness has never been in her vocabulary, until this moment.

Boo crawls from under the truck, oil and blood spattering his clothes, the crimson liquid particularly tainting his hands. His eyes grow wide. "The trucks leakin gas! If they pop some caps in that thing, it's gonna be a fuckin bomb!"

Marceline jerks around. "Then we gotta use that to our advantage. Lady, you got the bags?"

The Asian woman pats the two duffels slung over her shoulders. She opens her mouth to reply but another hail of bullets stops them all. A stray nicks Finn's ear and he yelps. The crimson leaks out the top side, a small enough flow, not to be lethal. But it must be hurting like a fucker.

"Let's back up so they come closer, then we pop a couple ones in the gas tank!" He offers through grit teeth, clenching the wound.

"What if a shot hits it before we do and kills us right now?!" Jake panics, looking at the metal trap.

They all pause to ponder the fact.

…

Then they go batshit.

Lady curses in foreign sayings, Jake curls up to rock back and forth, Booboo bawls his eyes out, being the most sensitive of them all, and Finn punches the ground until his knuckles are bloodier than the dirt around them.

As the police make their way closer and closer, the shots nip closer and closer. In the face of death, being unable to do _anything_ is her worst fear. And her worst fear is becoming reality.

As more shots pummel into the dripping automobile, their bodies go tense. Any moment it'll blow, they think. Any moment now…

**BOOM!**

A sleek black truck bursts from the farmhouse in the distance, creating a horrid hole in the wall. Many people pile out, but in seconds it collapses in itself, presumably killing the rest inside. That same truck barrels over the rough terrain, going any and everywhere over the speed limit.

"Die MOTHERFUCKERS!" a sweet voice says, exactly as a cheerleader would chant. Bonnibel jumps up from the flatbed and grips a large and bulky thing, with a tube like a fire hose curving from a tub in the flatbed. Everyone in the vicinity stops and looks to see it spout a fire like a water hose at the click of a switch.

Heat blasts over the crew and they run away from the imploding fire. One by one they go down, others dodging the rampaging vehicle by jumping to the side of the road. Burning bodies char the street, the smell enough to make everyone gag and eye's water.

The ones who escape begin shooting at the wide open target. She drops down in a heartbeat as the truck does a U-turn, and comes back up with a machine gun. Marceline goes up on her knees in wonder, whistling a little as Bonnibel totes it like the newest accessory.

"What a gal…"

Finn on the other hand grins at the precise turns and twists, marveling at who must be at the wheel. Whoever they are, they handle that bulky military vehicle like a sports car.

Simultaneously they mutter, "Hot Damn." And damn the sight is indeed.

Blonde locks flowing behind her, Bonnibel bursts forth smoke from the muzzle at anyone up and moving, with a cheerful charisma. Despite the violence dealing out, she treats it so lightly, the whole act slightly off-putting and unnerving.

Once the last man drops dead, body rendered unidentifiable, the truck does a 360 spin into a stop beside the group. They all stare in shock, their clothes ragged and bodies wounded, at the girl. She hops down.

"You all okay? Sorry for getting here so late."

Marceline stumbles up and pulls her into a hug, nose burrowing to her neck. "God I thought they got you babe!" Her voice cracks unexpectedly, but Bonnibel smiles anyways. With a steady hand the blonde pulls off her hat, undoing the braid atop and having dark locks cascade down.

"It's okay Marcy. I'm fine. When we first crashed, I noticed the farm house and made a run there. Then I met this girl and she helped me get out. She was in being held there for some reason."

"What girl?" Lady inquires. Jake and Boo follow over.

As if on cue, the driver door pops open, exposing a short girl with thick, fiery hair. It runs loose down her shoulders in waves, complete with a red dress to match. Finn's the first to address her.

Address meaning to talk her ear off.

"HI I'M FINN and wow you're driving was so fucking good and I was just wowed and I like your hair its really red and your freckles and you seem so awesome; what's your name ?"

She takes a step back at the onslaught and Boo has to heft him over his shoulder.

"I'm… Fuscia." She says, slightest of an Irish accent tinting her words.

"Fuscia? Like the color?" He questions again, feet kicking loosely in the air from his compromising position. His face peeks from over his back.

"Yes…" she says. Lady steps forward, offering a hand.

"Well it's great to meet you! I'm Lady, this is my boyfriend Jake, the one holding back Finn is Booboo and that's Marc- oh.."

She points to each of them in turn, ending with the dark haired girl, who apparently is in a heated kissing session with Bonnibel. Boo clears his throat awkwardly and mutters her name under a faux cough.

She breaks away, brows raised in confusion. Then her gaze focuses onto the red head and she gives a grin and wave. "Oh hey Red. I'm Marceline. Thanks for saving my girl." Bonnibel's arms tighten around her neck.

"Your girl?"

"Yeah, Bonnibel."

Lady rolls her eyes, going to the truck. "Well, I'm gonna assume that you're with us now, so lets go."

Fuscia goes to talk but everyone piles into the truck, miniature conversations drowning her out. When Finn goes to get in the driver seat, does she finally speak up. "Uh huh, you aren't driving this car. This is mine."

He snorts at the challenge, eyes lighting up. "Excuse me freckles? I've been driving chases from the law so good, they'd be running in circles. I'm the best here."

Jake forces Finn into the passenger side. "Girls, girls, you're both pretty; Now Finn relax and just let her drive. You can both brag about your skills once we get to a hotel."

He slumps into the seat, smiling despite the scold. "Fine." Marceline and Bonnibel take the trunk, of request of the backseat passengers and Lady in particular.

She says, quote unquote, "You guys have sexual tension so thick, nobody can breathe around you. Try to keep your hands off each other until you're outta the public eye, okay?"

Jake then just has to add on, "I give them five minutes once we get to the hotel. Five minutes."

Booboo snickers back, "I give seven. Marceline has some limit of self control I'd think." She punches him hard on the shoulder then, cheeks bright red.

Yet on a more important note, something in the massacre foretells her of troubles ahead, signaling dread to well in her throat. But for now she ignores it. For the other fifty miles, they lay in the trunk bed holding hands and looking at the bloody distance fade.

* * *

LATER ON…

"Dammit! They got away again." His bony hand rattles everything upon the surface of the table. The messenger stiffens at the open display of frustration.

"Sir, I-"

Those sockets so dark they look hollow turn to him. His face resembles no emotion. "We need a new tactic. Call in Ms. Gorges again."

He scurries out the room, returning in half hour. The woman looks more riled up than ever before.

"What the hell do you want, Lich! Where's my ticket outta here huh, you scumbag?" The man breathes, once, twice, to settle his nerves into a frighteningly calm composure.

"Why relax, Ms. Gorges. It will come in due time. It's now that I'd need some more information to speed up the process." Her eyes squint.

"What more can I give you?! This is the third time!"

He jerks his gaze to her and she closes her mouth so fast it hurts. Voice cool and collected, he continues, shoes clicking with every footfall. "Would you know of any frequenting places they'd visit?"

She swallows. "How the hell would I know…" Previous bite lacks in her tone. He sizes up the response for a moment, then snaps his fingers. Another man hurries in, dropping a black bag on the table and getting out as fast as possible. She doesn't have enough time to catch a glimpse of his face. Lich unfolds the package, steadily.

Her throat closes up at the sight, and every muscle in her body screams to run. Polished cutlery grins back at her. Lich chuckles at her reaction. "Ahh, now I seem to have caught your attention. As did the door."

"L-look, Mr. Lich, I gave ya all I know. No need to get hasty.."

His eyes glint in mischief. "Oh but, there's more Ms. Gorges. So, much more." He slips from beneath it's cover, a particularly nasty hooked blade. It greets her neck a breath after. "Now are you positive there's nothing you have left to tell me?"

She stumbles on her words, careful to not scrape her skin more against the knife than necessary. "Well, well, uh… we u-used to come down and v-visit their family in the Nightos and such. Marcy always f-found a way to see her father every year and to keep their relationship from turning back to shit when she was a kid."

"Isn't her father in the high position of the mafia ; Mr. Abadeer I presume from research? Or not?" The questions make her sweat.

"Yeah, yup, right on t-the dot." He seems pleased with her answer and she takes a leap of faith. "Look that's all I know! Promise! I-I don't even care about getting outta jail, just don't kill me!"

He backs up, replacing the knife in it's holder. "I guess that's enough intel for a more properly staged ambush. It's easier to keep up the flimsy chases, get them comfortable, then come in with the strike they won't be able to counter nor expect."

She nods and gives an awkward laugh, desperate to leave. Her leg shakes under the table. "C-can I leave?"

He glares at her, freezing the blood in her bones. Then a sudden smile accompanies it, the oddest of emotions displayed before in her life. "Yes."

The chair crashes to the floor in the speed she bursts out the room. The worker from earlier comes in awhile later. Lich recalls his orders, pacing back and forth.

"Set up the next ambush a month from now, but do it cleverly. The file says they all go back to Ooo and or Nightos to visit family. We'll catch'em there. Gather all the men surrounding, including the townsfolk, famers, whoever wants to fight. For now, continue poorly staged fights so their off guard when we bring out all-the-stops. "

The man takes all the orders in, then nods swiftly, Hesitance hints at his features. "Yes sir, will do sir. But Mr. Lich… it's been found that the Asian woman in their group, 'Lady' Raisama, is pregnant. The media could just be pulling a stunt, but I don't wanna risk it."

The man jerks to face him, lips in a crooked smile. "Risk what?"

He swallows nervously, taking another step back. "Risk killing a fetus sir. It's.. horrible."

Lich backs him against the wall, breath ghosting over his face. "Last time I checked, a murderer is a murderer. The fetus, whether it be real or not, dies no matter what. Now be on your way."

The messenger hurries out the room like it's on fire. No one stays in the same space as Lich for longer than necessary. Lich looks back at the intricate maps spreading onto the walls of the room, pins marking their group's stops, robbery's and such.

"I will find you and kill you all. I don't fail Abadeer gang." He comments, turning on his heels to leave. The metal door shuts with a slam of finality, rupturing the rest into darkness.

* * *

It's actually two. Jake and Booboo were wrong. Out of their luck it rained on the way there, washing most of the blood off efficiently. Soaking strangers with lots of money. No worries.

Once into dry clothes, it takes them two minutes. One minute of watching the rain out the window, the next in a short staring match. Then Marcy is shoved up against their bedroom wall, Bonnibel's dress is sliding off a shoulder, and their lips are pressing together in such a way that air itself becomes of second priority.

Bonnibel's lips trail down her neck, intoxicating breath puttering over the flesh in soft kisses. Marcy's clean shirt unbuttons and becomes shrugged unto the floor, exposing more than she's seen before. She pulls her mouth back in huff, to glance over her torso.

She runs her palms over the band over her chest, similar to the one used for when someone would sprain a wrist. Springy and elastic. Marcy shrugs.

"What? My chest gives me away." Blue eyes stare and unwraps the tight fabric carefully.

"I've never seen you without it though…" Silence takes up the rest as it unravels completely upon the floor.

Bonnibel eyes her considerably, every passing second making the pale chest flush a deeper shade of red. Finally, she spurts out, "A-are you just gonna stand there?"

She frowns and lets a fingernail trail down from her jaw line to neck and from the neck to the valley between her breasts. "I'm just appalled that you have better breasts than I do, yet hide them all the time. Seriously."

Marceline starts to laugh, really, but the warm palm on her chest drowns it in her throat. Bonnibel kisses upwards from the hem of her pants, hands moving swiftly and roughly against the flesh in her hands. Marceline's eyes flutter shut at the senses, mouth working for silent words to say, only short groans escaping.

Yet, somehow she chokes out in the midst, "It's getting harder, to do these heists. They're getting smarter." Both know the assumptions hinted at in the phrase, but not why it's chosen to bring up such a degrading topic right now.

Needless to say, it's addressed in the best possible way. Bonnibel presses a finger to her lips, mimicking silence. In a husky whisper she says, "We can _address_ that later. Now, just let me _undress_ you." Marcy nods, slightly unbelieving.

But…

It's hard, so hard, for Marceline to think about the troubles lying ahead, the fall of her crime spree, the lives she's taken. She can't think about anything with Bonnie's tongue pushing against hers or Bonnie's lips on her throat or Bonnie's hands dipping below her waist—can't think with Bonnie's small fingers tracing her lines and scars—definitely can't think with Bonnie's mouth charting a path down her stomach, between her legs. Breath itself escapes her when Bonnie's mouth does things so wonderfully unorthodox; it's a mystery where she learned it.

So deviously pleasurable, it should be illegal.

She understands now that such things don't exist between sheets, and a ramble erupts from her lips entailing those three words she vows not to speak, especially in a situation like this. The notorious, 'I love you'. In response, finger's interlock with her own and that sweet, sweet voice repeats the same phrase with just as much emotion, if not more.

So on the cusp of orgasm, she isn't in a fierce fight for her life and Bonnibel isn't doing the same; she's Marceline Abadeer and a girl with ocean eyes is bringing her over the edge.

And she's perfectly fine with that.

* * *

The youngest two hit it off over the months, bonding a thick friendship over common interests and providing the rest with an endless supply of entertainment.

All things good for the group, must come to an end. Lady's pregnancy myth proves true and now the sign shows proudly. Jake, in the fear and joy of becoming a father soon, declares time off from everything. Now with only weeks to conception, she announces that they're moving back to Japan. It can be a chance to climb out of the hole they've dug for themselves. They invite the rest to come, and problems arise. Finn has to beg Fuscia, who complies in the end due to her own lack of a proper family. Her past remains less and less of a mystery with each day, while most is still unknown. Only time will tell the rest.

Bonnibel gives caution to her own family and the law, and in not wanting them harmed, agrees. Booboo also joins, but it's Marcy who has the opposition. After being begged to death, for weeks on end, she hesitantly agrees.

But not with one last trip to see her father.

This leads to now, the couple driving down the road to see the infamed Mr. Abadeer himself. The group prepares up the rest, packing bags and money for the trip. Once they return, they'll all leave on the morrow, without a trace.

"…Are you nervous?"

Marceline laughs awkwardly. "No.. not really. My relationship with my dad used to be crap, but now we're getting closer. But randomly announcing I'm not gonna be visiting anytime soon just might be too much though."

She frowns. "You don't have to if you don't want to Marcy. You can…" The blonde gives a strained face in thought, then finishes, "I'll stay with you. Okay?"

"No.. no. I'm worried about your family more than my own babe. Mine's just a buncha gangsters, yours are… well good people. I can't- I won't let that happen. I just gotta say goodbye, then we can go."

"I can't wait to see Japan. It sounds so beautiful." She sighs, sparing a glance out the window. "I hope it's not too cold though. Winter's approaching."

Marceline clears her throat suggestively. "Don't worry; once we get there, just give me ten minutes and you'll be hot enough to melt."

She receives a playful smack on turn, as expected. But Bonnibel doesn't deny it. With a small smile, she drifts to sleep and murmurs, "I'll count on it."

Only when it's dark at night and they're pulling into a small secluded cul-de-sac of a neighborhood does she awaken and stretch. Dark rings hide under Marceline's eyes.

"Hey Bon. You awake?"

"Yes… but it looks like you needed the sleep more than I did." She waves her off and hops out into the street.

"It's nothing. I'm used to staying up at ungodly hours." Their hands slid into each other's easily as they walk to the front door. With every step nostalgia inks into her memories, unforgiving. This leads to her fist shaking in hesitance when she goes to knock, hovering above the wood. Bonnibel then, does it for her.

It swings open a minute or so after, exposing an older-aged man with slick black hair, a white tanktop and pink striped boxers. _Very_ menacing. He takes another bite of his sandwich, then cries out, "Ahh Marcykins!"

She groans just like a teenager and walks past him inside. "Hi dad." He engulfs her in a hug, then suddenly pulls a revolver out his waistband at the other girl still in the doorway.

"Who are you?" He says just as easy. Marceline opens and closes her mouth in shock. _W-wait what? I told him about her a bunch of times!_

Bonnibel has a gun pointed at him too before she can blink. "Nice to meet you Mr. Abadeer. I'm Bonnibel Parker, your daughter's girlfriend."

He whistles. "You're a pretty gal. I wonder how Marceline got her hands on someone like you."

She grins. "Why thank you."

"Oh and I've much about you Parker. Very ruthless killer, very intelligent and very beautiful. I'm overjoyed that my little softie met such a girl like you."

"Thanks again. It's a pleasure to meet you, by the way."

"Likewise."

Marceline gapes comically at the exchange, mouth drooping open. Her father notes this out the corner of his eyes, and presses her mouth closed with a slight frown.

"Don't gape sweetie; it's unattractive."

"Pssh, wah?" She sputters. The blonde laughs and he and her share a knowing look. "Hey! I-If you guys are so buddy-buddy, why are you still training guns on each other?!"

He raises a hand to his mouth, as if the notion never occurred to him. His gun drops back into his waistband snugly. "Oh! Whoops, must've forgot." Bonnie murmurs the same with a shrug and pockets her revolver.

After the whole misunderstanding (to Marceline at least) is cleared up and the three catch up on things, Marceline goes to break the news.

That's when the cheerful atmosphere dissipates.

In between multiple sandwiches and coffee ( an Abadeer specialty) she finally says, "Daddy,… I'm leaving."

"Well I know that, you-"

"The country." This ends his cheery expression, and a glimpse of the feared mob boss peeks through. Bonnibel shrinks in her seat under his glare alone. It appears from literally nowhere, darkening his whole form.

"What?"

Marceline meets it with stern expression also. "One of my close friends are pregnant and.. well the law's getting too close to us now. We're barely getting out alive as it is."

"Did I teach you back down from a challenge? What about taking over your old man's trade, huh?" His voice raises with every word. "Never thought my _only daughter_ is a _quitter_. A weakling, wuss. Running away when things get hard. Damn shame."

"I'm not a wuss or a quitter or any of that!" She stands to her feet suddenly.

"Yes you are! Disgrace!" His eyes go alight in flames.

"The difference between me and you dad, is that when people close to me get their lives in danger, I know when to stop and protect them!"

He takes a couple steps back, eyes wide at the blow she threw. Bonnibel watches on incredulously at the exchange. Marceline wipes her tired eyes and takes a couple steps forwards.

"If…. If you did what I'm doing, a long time ago, I'd still have my mom!"

"Marcy…."

"But you didn't! So... so don't call me a quitter." She unclenches her fists, letting them hang limp at her sides. "I'm just looking out for the people I love. For people like you."

Mr. Abadeer frowns, face struck with hurt. After a moment, he offers quietly, "I… I know. I'm sorry." He gathers her in a deep hug, dropping as much as his pride as he possibly can. "I'm so proud of you baby. It… it just hurts at the same time knowing… that I wasn't as smart as you are. That I could've saved your mother before it got bad."

He pushes her back out after a moment, looking into her eyes. Then just like that, he's back to being his self. "Now go and get outta here. I'm counting on you to fix things."

She nods solemnly. Bonnibel and her make it to the door, then after a quick hug for herself and a handshake for Bonnibel, they leave. Out under the dim streetlamps, Marceline frowns.

"Babe, everything feels off."

"What do you mean?" She goes to the driver seat, an unspoken vouch to drive back to Finn and Jake's.

Marceline climbs into the passenger side, staring out the window as it rumbles to life other than sleeping. Bonnibel takes her hand, keeping the other on the wheel. "Marcy, talk to me. What is it?"

"Just… something doesn't feel right. "

"I still don't understand…"

She sighs. "I don't know how to put it. Haven't you noticed we haven't been chased for the last couple weeks? Heck, Jake even went into that general store to buy some soup for Lady and wasn't caught. Out in the public. Doesn't that throw you off?"

She brings the back of her hand up to her lips for slow kiss, thumb rubbing relaxing circles on the back of her hand. "If you put it like that, it does seem odd. It just shows why Finn got the tickets for two days from now. We'll be out of here soon enough."

She visibly relaxes, and pulls her over for a kiss. Bonnibel sputters for the wheel and jerks back in a haste. Marceline gives a low chuckle.

"Marcy! We could've crashed!"

The older girl just looks out the window and at the empty road ahead. "You know you love it."

They drive for a good number of miles, ending up in the short stent of countryside, beside a forest.

Marceline blinks after a thought. "Bonnie, was that car here when we first drove here? It looks like Jake's."

Bonnibel looks to the rusty red truck visible in the distance. "I don't think so… you think they came to get us and had some troubles?"

"Maybe. That old rust bucket falls apart at every corner. Let's go check it out." She gradually slows the speed as it approaches.

Suddenly, something moves out the corner of Marceline's eye, behind a tree on the opposite side. Then another movement. Metal glints in the moonlight.

Her blood freezes cold. "BONNIE GO!"

Bonnibel gives her a confused look. "Wait-what?" She shifts in her seat to slam her own foot on the wheels shriek against the pavement.

"The truck's a trap just-" Just then, groups and groups of men come from the shadows of the forest, the sound of guns going off like an explosion.

As they race past, bullets slice into the car. Glass shatters amongst the sound of metal tearing. Marceline keeps her foot on the gas as long as she can, bullets rippling into her body. However, Bonnibel's grip slips from the wheel and they spin out eventually. Air hisses from within the hole riddled tires.

Everything seems deathly silent, except the blow of wind into the vehicle. Marceline shifts amidst the glass, chest shuddering with every breath. Something sends a shrill of pain into her side, possibly a shattered hip. She doesn't even know anymore. Crimson stains her entire shirt, hinting at wounds there also.

She struggles to reach over to Bonnibel. Blood seeps down her scalp, dying her blonde locks a twisted red, along with her own body. It's almost impossible to find all the wounds, glass nicking cuts up and down her arms and legs.

"B-bonnie. Please be alive" she croaks, shaking her. "Please talk to me."

She tilts her head down and she sighs in relief. Her hand reaches for hers. "I'm sorry.." She pauses for breath. "Marcy."

"No, _I'm_ sorry! You could've had a nice life, and I took that from you. I'm a monster, I'm-"She swallows down the metal taste on her tongue. "Bad people… we don't get happy endings, do we Bon?" Boots thump in the distance and cheers echo closer to the wreck. It seems only minutes until they reach and every whoop of joy makes her stomach churn.

After a long pause the blonde whispers, "I never asked… for a happy ending Marcy. I only asked for you to hold me when the ending comes. There's a difference." Tears mixing with the red staining her cheeks, she nods wordlessly and brings her head to rest on her chest in an embrace.

Still, she kisses her forehead again and repeats, "I'm so damn sorry. That it has to end this way."

Bonnibel gives her a weak smile. "I probably sound so corny, but I'm glad… that at least it's with you." With an afterthought she says, "So I'm sorry that you're sorry."

The dry chuckle in Marceline's throat makes her throat burn "Nice pun. Do you think… us dying will matter?"

The men seem so close now, but it could be her light-headedness. Blood loss can do wonders. Bonnibel takes a strained breath, and she feels a pang of guilt for putting her through more pain. With the way she struggles to breathe at very sentence, it's possible her ribcage resembles a broken maze more than anything.

"This is how the world ends. This is how the worlds ends. This is how the world ends, not with a bang, but with… a whisper." She quotes from some poet forgotten long ago. "A whisper might be best for us, Marcy. Don't you think?"

A man with a gruffly beard suddenly peeks in through the driver side. His gleeful face is sickening. "Ey, they ain't dead yet!"

An array of "Kill'em" and "Kill the bastards" sound from the others hurrying over and he readies shotgun eagerly.

"Y'all gon' get it now." He says, country accent thicker than honey. Marceline pulls Bonnibel closer and closes her eyes to focus on the dull heartbeat against hers, much more relaxed than she would've thought. It's almost a rhythm: **Thump, Thump, Th-thump, Thump…**

She registers the sound of the gun clicking before anything else. Then there's a boom loud enough to rattle her bones- then nothing. While the shot echoes across the acre, to the rest of the world it's as quiet as feather kissing the ground.

The only trace left behind is a couple scrap poems from a tattered notebook, and a few photographs of two grinning adults, high on life itself. As a conclusion, it's found later on that after another ambush, the rest of the group escape to Korea, but not without a price. Jake receives a broken arm and Boo loses a leg.

The tale of the Abadeer gang lives on as a blemish, a speck in American history. Some see them as just living young to the fullest, some as cold blood murderers.

But when it comes down to the last seconds, the last campfires under the moon, the last hugs, the last one-on-one talks, the last stares, the last kisses, the last laughs, the last grins, and the very last words spoken, there's no doubt that it's an abrupt end to the tale of Bonnie and Marcy, a violent ending for a violent couple.

**END OF PART FOUR OUT OF FOUR**


End file.
